


Work Trip

by Hatsonhamburgers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU work trip, Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Kidnapping, M/M, Porn, Smut, Top Harry Potter, Unconventional Relationship, all things anal, and suddenly there was plot oops, it's crack, okay, probably plot holes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:16:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14970857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsonhamburgers/pseuds/Hatsonhamburgers
Summary: Harry is sent to Paris on a work-related trip and who would he run into but a very fit-looking Draco Malfoy.  It seems the hotel walls are thin, and Harry gets treated to a nightly show by insatiable power bottom Draco.Is all Harry ever going to do is be on the outside looking in?This took a weird turn and ended up with a little plot thrown in.  My bad.  It was supposed to just be shameless smut ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my dear friend who requested it.

Harry jerked at the collar of his dress Auror robes for the hundredth time. They were beyond itchy and he felt foolish wearing them in the summer heat. Ginny swatted his hand away.

“Don’t. You’ll stretch it out,” she scolded, sounding for all the world like her mother, though Harry knew not to tell her so, lest he keep his bollocks intact. 

“I don’t care,” he grumbled.

“Well, since you’re shit at laundry spells, you should keep your hands off it. You have to wear it all week.” She reached up as if to straighten it, seemed think better of it, and put her hand down. “Maybe they have a laundry at this posh French hotel.”

Harry detected a note of jealousy in Ginny’s voice, but he chose to ignore it. Things were on shaky ground as it was- the fire that had been present early in their relationship had somehow fizzled out, and he no longer understood where he stood with her. They’d lived together in Grimmauld Place for a couple of years, but it was finally in good enough shape to sell, so they were talking about moving to a new place.

Problem was, they’d been talking about it for six months. 

It seemed every time it came up, they would mutually acknowledge that yes, they needed to look at flats in the city. However, after so many passive conversations about it, Harry began to wonder if maybe Ginny didn’t _want_ to move into a new flat. It wasn’t that she wanted to stay in the once decrepit Most Ancient and Noble House of Black- she took every opportunity she could to complain about the state of it. So most likely it was that she didn’t want to move into a new flat with _him._

He could understand her hesitancy at breaking it off with him. He was notoriously moody these days. Work at the Ministry was chaotic as usual, and since Kingsley had been promoted, it had fallen to Harry to take over as Head Auror of the Greater London Area. 

He loved his job, most days, and it made him feel productive and useful. But it seemed to take up every waking moment of his time and attention. And maybe he might have been a little distant from his girlfriend. When they fought, she’d say it was too hard to share him with the entire Wizarding world. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, but it had to be that work became his life or something similar.

But in the end, didn’t he owe it to the witches and wizards of England to keep them safe? Wasn’t that why he existed in the first place? 

Which was why he volunteered to be the one to go on a week-long trip to Paris to a Conference on International Relationships in the Auror community. It seemed like a good idea to get out of the office for a while, even if it was work-related. A change of scenery might do him good- or so Ginny had said when she pushed him to go. It occurred to him that she might have motives for making him leave, but he really couldn’t be arsed to care. 

“Harry, we need to talk.” Ginny was chewing her lip. 

Harry checked the time. His portkey was due to activate any moment.

“Can it wait? I’m about to have to-”

“I think we need to break up.” Ginny said quickly.

Harry froze. “What?”

Ginny winced. “Yeah, sorry about the timing, but won’t it be nice to get away? You really need the vacation, and this is as close as it comes-”

“I mean-” Harry blinked rapidly. “I mean, I thought we were okay?” It sounded like a lie to his ears.

Ginny gave him a withering look. “We haven’t been okay since...since, I don’t know. What I do know is that I really need to do some time alone- really try to figure things out by myself-”

“Bullshit,” Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine,” Ginny sighed. “It’s not me, it’s you.”

Harry sputtered.

“All you do is work, sleep, and then work again. When you’re home, you’re unhappy. You never seem to hear me when I talk to you, we never have sex anymore, and when we do, you’re a million miles away, and I swear to Merlin if I don’t get out of this nightmare I am going to fucking lose my shit.” She was waving her arms around by the time she finished.

Harry heaved a deep breath. She had a point. He was a crap boyfriend.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. You’re right.”

She looked shocked. “Well, that’s unexpected. I thought you’d be more... upset...but I guess this is best for us both. I don’t think you even know what you want for your life, Harry. And neither of us can figure out what we want stuck together in a stale relationship.”

Harry was silent for a moment. The chipped painted ceramic cat sitting on the table that served as his portkey began to vibrate slightly. 

“Well, that’s me,” he said lamely. 

“Have a good trip, darling, I’ll be moved out by the time you get back.” She kissed him on the cheek as he reached for the cat.

“Sure, yeah,” he said distractedly. His fingers came in contact with the cool ceramic and the world twisted around him and he was wrenched through space and time.

He came to an abrupt landing in the entryway of the Paris portkey office, tumbling over to his left, running smack into someone.

“Oi! Lookout, this is silk,” a distinct smooth low voice came from behind him. 

Fuck.

Harry straightened his robes again and turned to face the voice. Draco Malfoy stood about a full head taller than Harry, and he was dressed impeccably as usual, his robes fitted, accuating his lithe, strong body.

“Sorry, Malfoy, didn’t see you there,” Harry sighed.

“Maybe you need your glasses checked,” Malfoy sneered. Or maybe it wasn’t a sneer. Harry looked at him quizzically. Malfoy was reading a small folded piece of parchment in his hand.

“Actually,” Harry said absently, checking his pockets for his own papers regarding the location of the hotel, “it _has_ been a while since I’ve had my eyes checked.”

Malfoy didn’t answer but spun to stomp up to the Portkey office’s reception desk. He asked a few questions in smooth, perfect French, and was given an answer along with a wink and suggestive smile by the wizard manning the booth. Malfoy smirked and leaned on the counter, continuing the conversation Harry couldn’t understand.

Harry blushed and looked away. His paper told him the floo address, so he moved to get into the queue. Soon he was swirling through the floo network and landing in the lobby of a very posh, decadent hotel. He followed the crowd of uniformed wizards and witches, all patrons of the conference, he assumed, and waited to check in and get his key. 

It was taking a moment, so his mind wandered back to Malfoy. 

Was he gay? He seemed to take the flirting in stride, but then again, who knew if it was real or just some way for Malfoy to get what he wanted. That seemed more likely, didn’t it?

Somehow, mostly thanks to Harry, Malfoy had survived the trials after the war fairly unscathed. Harry had submitted evidence and witness statements from himself, Hermione, Ron, and Luna that Malfoy had been just as much a prisoner in his home as the rest were. Luna testified that Malfoy had snuck food down to her, Griphook, and Ollivander during her stay, and Ron knew he could have told Bellatrix LeStrange their identity, but defied her and stayed silent. Harry wasn’t sure if Malfoy had done that intentionally, but he had later learned that Bellatrix was an accomplished and powerful Legimens, and could have pulled the information from his mind. But Malfoy had used his Occlumency to hide it from her. 

Harry had testified about Malfoy and Dumbledore’s final words to one another, and Dumbledore’s implicit forgiveness, and the Wizengamot saw reason, releasing him without punishment. Lucius was remanded to the Manor, and Narcissa had left him to live with her sister. 

But Harry didn’t know much about what happened after the war besides that. 

He’d been too busy with work, nonstop it seemed, to keep track of Draco Malfoy. He’d heard that the former Slytherin had got a lower-level job at the Ministry with the curse-breakers and had worked his way up to a supervisory position as quickly as Harry had. Which explained why he was at the conference.

“Monsieur Potter?” a thick accent broke him from his thoughts.

“Sorry,” Harry fumbled, approaching the counter, setting his bag down. “I mean, erm, pardonne moi?” The witch behind the counter smiled tightly and continued in neatly accented English. 

“Here is the packet for the first day, and your room keys. If you need anything, call seven on the floo. Next!”

Harry moved to the side, grateful for the French people’s inability to be impressed by him. Every time he was in the country, even if someone knew his name, they treated him as they would anyone else, and it was a relief. 

The lift was crowded, and Harry spied Malfoy in the back, talking to a familiar brunette man. Was that the man from the portkey office? Harry didn’t want to turn back to see for sure, so he strained to hear their conversation.

Of course, he didn’t understand French in the slightest, and they were whispering. The rest of the lift riders were ignoring them, so Harry tried to as well.

They made two stops before he got to the fifth floor where his room was, and he looked back and saw it was just he and Malfoy and the portkey bloke. He smiled awkwardly and tried to will the lift to move faster. 

After a short silent ride, the door opened and Harry very nearly dashed out into the corridor and scanned the doors for his room number. To his relief, Malfoy and his companion went the opposite direction. 

Harry watched the numbers descend as he walked, realizing he should have gone the other way as well. The pamphlet on the hotel had stated that all floors circled a large atrium, so if he kept walking, he’d end up back where he started.

The numbers started going up again and soon he found his room. He sighed and used his key, closing the door behind him.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself as he entered the room. It was decorated in gold and white, and the high ceiling had been charmed to show the deep blue sky. There were a few lonely clouds drifting by, and Harry watched as they joined and floated away.

He dropped his bag and folder and stipped off his robes. He might have a while before dinner was served to rest, so he got down to his boxers and flopped back onto the soft duvet, sinking into the mattress. It felt wonderful. He closed his eyes and relaxed, pushing away all thoughts of Ginny, the DMLE, Malfoy, and the long boring conference that would devour his week.

He was almost asleep when he heard a noise through the wall.

His eyes popped open and he waited, hearing it again. It sounded like a moan.

Harry smirked. Someone was having it off in the middle of the day. 

There was another moan, and an answering male moan.

Harry sat up straight. _It was Malfoy, of course it was._

Harry moaned a different sort of moan and flopped back onto the bed and covered his face with a pillow.

_Of course_ Malfoy was in the room next to his, they were coming from the same Ministry. _Of course_ he was having sex in the middle of the day, and _of course_ it was with the attractive bloke from the portkey office.

Harry could picture them, tangled together, fucking.

Was Malfoy on top? He had no idea what the criteria for being a top during gay sex was, he’d never thought about it before. It seemed an appropriate time as ever to think about it, so he considered what he knew about Malfoy.

Malfoy was bossy and a perfectionist, and a control freak by all accounts. He seemed like he would be a firm hand, but maybe not. Maybe he liked to be fucked, pounded into the mattress, submitting with his pert little perfect arse up in the air, face in the pillows, moaning as he wanked himself in time with thrusts-

Harry’s hand had somehow wandered down to his cock and was stroking it through his pants. Was it weird? Getting turned on by his old nemesis and coworker sort of weird, right?

The moans grew louder, and Harry was sure he recognized Malfoy’s voice, coming lower through the wall than the other. 

So he must be the one sprawled on the bed with the brunet bloke holding him down and fucking him. Harry found he could picture it very well, the moaning spurning on the fantasy.

Harry paused fondling himself to discard his pants and spread out. He grabbed his wand and held it to his palm and mumbled a lubrication spell, filling his hand with warm wetness. He curled his fist and flipped over to his stomach, the two men in his mind fucking hard, the sound of skin slapping being heard through the wall. 

Harry pushed his hard and leaking cock through the circle of his tight fist, muffling his own moan with the pillow as he imagined the bloke next door sinking into Malfoy’s tight hole, and began to thrust in earnest. 

The moans through the wall turned to cries of pleasure and he heard Malfoy’s voice clearly through the wall.

“Je vais jouir!” he shouted. Harry wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Malfoy was about to come. 

Harry fucked his fist with vigor, biting his pillow to keep quiet. There was a shout and he knew Malfoy came, and his own orgasm overtook him, and he thrust through it, smearing his come on the mattress. The was a second shout from the companion, and then there was silence.

Harry heaved breaths and wiped sweat on the duvet. He rolled over and looked at the sticky mess. He vanished it with a flick of his wand, and then sprawled back out. 

Well, that was something. 

As the post-orgasmic haze began to fade, guilt and shame began to sink in. 

Harry covered his face with his hands and suppressed a moan, knowing his neighbors could hear him. He’d just wanked to the sound of Draco Malfoy getting buggered by some rando from the portkey office. And he’d come harder than he had in _years_.

Sure he had a fantasy life. When he could find time to. 

Ginny was out of town often, so he had to make do with his hand, and he had plenty of wank magazines stashed in Grimmauld. 

And maybe every once in awhile, he’d have a look at one of Sirius’ old gay porn mags just for fun. No big deal. The wizards in those magazines had 70’s sideburns and were very hairy, but he enjoyed when they winked and bent over to spread their cheeks and show off their arsehole. 

Harry liked anal sex more than anything. Ginny sort of knew this, and thankfully she was rather adventurous and preferred it some nights. She was wild in bed, and he’d even let her peg him- it was only a small sized dildo in the strap-on, but it made her happy, and it had felt pretty good.

Maybe that was what was wrong with their relationship. They were both tops. She was forever flipping him to his back and riding him, which he didn’t mind- after a hard day of work, he had little energy to meet the needs of his insatiable girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend.

He thought maybe she’d taken a lover while out of town. The notion didn’t bother him terribly if he thought about it. He sure as hell wasn’t trying very hard in the relationship, that was clear. Ginny really deserved to be treated well, and maybe it was for the best.

Satisfied that he’d narrowly avoided an emotional crisis, Harry got up and dressed for dinner. He rolled his eyes at the dress robes he’d just taken off, and pulled his favorite jeans out of his bag- the ones without holes- and a clean t shirt. He shoved his feet into his Vans, and pulled on a muggle blazer. He looked in the mirror and shrugged. Looked fine to him.

His hair wouldn’t stay down, of course, so he gave up and tucked his wand in the inside pocket of the blazer and grabbed his room key and headed out.

“Oh, Potter,” Malfoy said pleasantly, “headed to the dining room?”

Harry turned and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Malfoy was locking the door to his room, impeccably dressed for dinner in blue robes, the portkey bloke looking between the two of them.

“Erm, yeah, headed down now.” Harry saw the plea in Malfoy’s eyes and sighed. “Yeah, the opening speaker is in a few, so yeah, headed down. Want to join me?”

Malfoy smiled brightly and turned to his companion. He rattled off a few words in French and pointed to the lift down the corridor. The bloke frowned and shot Harry a murderous look and crossed his arms, clearly pouting. Malfoy spoke in soothing tones and pulled the bloke toward the lift, leaving Harry to wait, annoyed.

After a farewell that was clearly insincere, Malfoy waited until the lift doors closed and sagged, an annoyed look on his face replacing the smile.

He marched over to Harry and huffed. 

“Well, Potter? Any idea how we can get down to the dining room without running into clingy Frenchmen?” He sniffed and brushed the front of his robes.

Harry blinked. “Yeah, I saw a freight lift around the other side- just come on.” He started off, kind of relieved for Malfoy being his usual self. Malfoy caught up.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.

“That you’re a poof?” Harry shot back, regretting his choice of words, but rushing to continue. “No, not a problem. Sirius Black was gay, you know. My godfather? Yeah, and Seamus and Dean from school? Also gay, so yeah, doesn’t bother me a bit.”

Malfoy had stopped walking. Harry stopped and turned, rolling his eyes at Malfoy who had his arms folded and a smug, amused smile on his face.

“That wasn’t at all the meaning of my question, Potter, but good to know.”

Harry groaned and turned to keep walking. Daft idiot, he was. 

Malfoy jogged to catch up again. “I just meant do you mind if I accompany you to the dining room.”

“Ah,” Harry said. “Yeah, s’fine.”

“Thanks for covering for me, I know Francois from when we were children, and I really wasn’t trying to make a habit out of blowing off a little steam with him, you know?”

Harry didn’t know, but he nodded like he did anyway.

The found the other lift, being used by some house elves to move a large amount of baggage.

“Oh good!” Malfoy exclaimed. “My luggage has arrived.” He stood to the side so the elves could levitate it out and down the hall. He stepped in and stared at Harry. “You coming?”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t know what I was expecting, of course it’s your luggage. Half your house in there?”

Malfoy grinned. “Basically. I plan on spending holiday time when this is over. Stay an extra week or so. Never know what I might need in the span of a week.”

His voice was almost suggestive. Flashes of Harry’s fantasy ran through his mind. He shook it off, worried Malfoy might be able to read his thoughts.

The doors slid open again, showing they had landed in the back of the kitchens. Some squeaking elves grabbed them by the hands and lead them quickly through the steaming pot and good smells to the door to the spacious dining room. 

Harry smiled a tight smile at Malfoy before looking for his assigned table. 

“Hello lads!” Gibson’s cheerful voice met him as he found the table with the tiny Union Jack Wizard flag floating above it. He looked back and saw that Malfoy had followed him, and was to be seated next to him. Perfect.

Apparently Malfoy and Gibson were great friends, because they bantered back and forth until the food was served. There were a few empty seats at the table, and Gibson assured them that the occupants would be there by the morning when the conference officially began. 

Harry poked at his dinner, not sure what he was eating, until Malfoy sighed, sounding put out, and snapped to call a server over, speaking in rapid French.

Soon a steak and kidney pie with a side of garlic mash appeared at Harry’s place setting, the mystery food now gone.

Harry looked over at Malfoy who was back to ignoring him in favor for gossiping with Gibson- he was head of the Spell Damage Insurance department, and apparently it was a lot more exciting than it sounded like.

Harry shrugged and tucked into his food. It was delicious! He hadn’t had pie this good since Hogwarts. It wasn’t a favorite of Molly Weasley’s, so Harry hadn’t had it in some time. And Ginny missed the cooking gene in their family- that was reserved for Ron. So having a complete meal like this was a treat.

Soon he was sighing with a full belly contentedly. He pushed back from the table and stretched out, looking around the room. It occurred to him that he was now a free man, just having been dumped, and whatnot. But he’d had such a satisfying wank earlier, he didn’t feel like trying to pull; so he told himself it was alright to look around the room and see what there was on offer.

There was a full table of women at the India table, wrapped in bright gorgeous silks, laughing and talking. They were beautiful, but looked like a tight-knit bunch, like a bridal hen party the night before the wedding. 

The French were generally unimpressed by Harry physically as well as his celebrity, so that was right out. There were several tables from muggle war-torn countries with occupants that seemed to be having glaring contests. The Australians seemed drunk already, and the South American Countries were said to have just arrived at the hotel. There was always the American table- those birds reportedly loved English accents and liked to let loose when overseas. But all Harry saw were men. There were three about his age and a two older ones. They were loud, of course, saying words like, ‘bro,’ and ‘totally,’ but they seemed nice enough.

“Looking for dessert?” Malfoy was suddenly close to his ear, looking in the direction Harry was staring.

“No! I mean, no, just seeing who’s here,” Harry blushed, noting that even he heard the lie in his voice. “I don’t, you know, go that way, or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Malfoy hummed. “I could go for a little bit of whatever, myself. How about the one with the desperate need for a haircut?”

Harry stared at Malfoy. “Didn’t you just come from a shag? Are you trying to break a record or something?”

Malfoy sniggered behind his hand. “Not exactly, but I _am_ on holiday. Besides, I didn’t mean for right now, but prospects. For later.” He was looking sideways at Harry, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. 

“You’re having me on, mate,” Harry snorted. “No way that bloke is gay. Look at him! He practically screams hetero.”

“Hmm, sounds like a challenge,” Malfoy smiled. “You’re on, Potter. I shall have him in my bed before the end of the week, or… What terms shall we set?”

Harry pretended to think. “Hmm, how about the loser has to attend the last two days of the convention and take notes for the winner so they can do what they want.”

“Oh, I like that,” Malfoy grinned. “You’re on.” They shook hands quickly, a small jolt traveling up Harry’s arm. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice.

“Time to bait the hook,” Malfoy stood, brushing off his robes, drawing the eyes of nearly everyone in the room by how good he looked, and made his way casually through the tables.

He paused at the American’s table and pointed to the shaggy haired bloke. Harry could tell he was pretending to recognize him. The other lads at the table were puffing their chests up and sizing up Malfoy. He met each one of their eyes, seductive smile in place, and one by one, they looked away, blushing slightly. 

The bloke Malfoy had picked looked like he was desperately trying to remember where they had met, and Malfoy laughed it off and shook his head and swished away, wiggling his fingers farewell in their direction.

As soon as Malfoy was far enough away, the American wizards started whispering amongst themselves, firing questions at the shaggy haired fellow. 

Harry looked around for Malfoy but he’d gone.

He sighed and said goodbye to Gibson, and headed to the lobby to take the main lifts.

He took a quick shower and collapsed into his bed, still full of food and worn out from travel. He wondered how Malfoy knew which wizards were tops, and if he’d hear them fucking through the wall when he inevitably got him into his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello frens, this is going in an odd direction...

Harry woke to the sounds of sex- moaning and sighing. He opened his eyes to see it was barely past dawn, and already Malfoy was at it with the poor bloke. He got on his knees and put his ear to the wall, listening intently. 

Only one of them seemed to be vocal- Malfoy. He moaned and gasped and sighed, rocking the bed gently as he was fucked. Harry waited to hear them speed up, skin on skin, but it never happened.

It dawned on him he was just listening to Malfoy masturbate on his own.

He jerked back from the wall and fell over. He held his breath to see if Malfoy could hear him. But it seemed like he was lost in the throes of pleasuring himself. 

“AH, yeah, right there, fuck me, ugh you’re so big, fuck me harder.” Malfoy’s dirty talk had Harry hard in an instant. He felt weird only for a second before shoving his hand down the front of his pyjamas and grabbing his cock, pressing the slit with his thumb. 

“Fuck! I love your cock, stuff it in me,” Malfoy moaned, sounding muffled by a pillow. If Harry was quiet, he could hear the wet sounds of Malfoy’s hand or- 

The sound of a dildo pushing into his lubed hole.

Harry remembered the squelching sound from his own pegging experience. Suddenly, the pleasure ratcheted up higher, knowing that Malfoy was over there impaling himself on a rubber cock, talking dirty to himself and getting off.

Harry’s cock throbbed in his hands. He pulled at his tight balls, keeping his mouth shut over a moan of pleasure. He wanted to hear Malfoy come.

Soon Malfoy was crying out in time with the slick sounds of thrusting and finally he came, calling out, “oh gods!” as he did, spilling on his sheets in Harry mind. A few more tugs and Harry came, taking his breath away, once again biting the pillow to keep quiet.

He lay there with his cock in his hand, with the sun barely up, realizing his sexuality was suddenly up for debate. 

Bisexual was a thing, wasn’t it? He was probably that. That or Malfoysexual or something. The idea a Malfoy’s tight arse plagued him the rest of the morning, as he ate breakfast with the man, sat through the first boring speeches about unifying the world, and on through lunch. The only thing keeping him distracted from Malfoy’s arse was Malfoy’s mouth. Always seeming to move, chatting idly, telling Harry stories of curse breaking, coaxing Harry into easy conversation over and over. Harry’s eyes were drawn to his lips as he spoke, and he tried with difficulty not to get distracted and stare at them openly. Malfoy seemed not to notice, licking his lip and sucking it into his mouth as he thought about something, having no idea that Harry was considering leaning over and biting it, just to see what happened.

The Americans shot looks over at them the whole day, the shaggy haired bloke in particular, as if Malfoy was an enigma he couldn’t decipher.

“He’s all twisted up, isn’t he?” Malfoy said smugly without looking over there. 

Harry laughed. “He can’t keep his eyes off you. It’s driving him mad. What did you say to him?”

“I just asked if we’d met in London before. He said he thought we had, and I told him I’d let him figure it out and we’d talk later. Right now he’s caught between his lingering heterosexuality and his urge to see what I look like under my robes.”

“Malfoy!” Harry admonished, “Not so loud, for fuck sake.” Malfoy just grinned at him, unashamed. It must be nice to live that way.

“They can’t hear me, I put a silencing charm around us.” Malfoy whispered, leaning closer. “Why don’t you call me Draco. I feel like I’m in school again when you call me by my surname, and I’d rather move on from that.”

“Okay...Draco,” Harry snorted in amusement at how silly it sounded coming out of his mouth. “Well, that was odd.”

“You’ll get used to saying it, _Harry_ , I’m sure,” Draco said, looking away. 

“This whole thing is just so…” Harry couldn’t find the exact word. “Strange? Oddly easy? I dunno. Why are you being so nice to me?”

Draco smiled and looked back at him. “Well, Harry, once I realized I no longer give a flying fuck what my Father thinks, it left me free to think for myself for a change.” He shrugged. “Why not? I mean, I had assumed we would be friends before I’d even met you. And it’s time to let go of old resentments.”

Harry sat open-mouthed at this revelation. “Before we met?”

Draco sighed. “Mother spoke of you when I was young. Secret from father, of course. You were the Boy Who Lived, who defied the Dark Lord, a special baby, same age as me, and I used to pretend we were friends when I was small. Too bad the reality didn’t measure up.”

Harry smirked. “You acting like a git is actually a great comfort, really, it lets me know I haven’t gone round the twist.”

Draco smirked back. “Anytime.”

The tables cleared and they were back to watching dull presentations on international cooperation of monitoring of illegal activities. There began to be a debate of which countries considered what was ‘illegal’, and Harry began to feel prickly. He hated when people argued and yelled, it always brought him to a dark place quickly. He rubbed the faint scar on his hand that said _I must not tell lies_ , and wished desperately for a way to escape. 

“Did you bring your invisibility cloak?” Draco whispered to him, looking as stricken as Harry felt.

“Of course,” Harry whispered back, close to Draco’s ear to be heard over the din. “But we can hardly take it out now and disappear, everyone will see.”

“Meet me under the table in three minutes,” Draco whispered and slid down his seat until he was under the table cloth. 

Harry froze, trying not to look around to see who noticed, lest he draw attention to himself. But everyone seemed to be shouting out support or criticism of the topic, of which Harry was no longer sure. He slid low in his seat, starting a little when his leg came in contact with some part of Draco that seemed a little near his crotch. 

He slid the rest of the way quickly and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy under the table. It was a bit dark, but he could make out Draco’s excited smile and the legs of the other members of their table.

“Wow, a lot of people stick their gum under tables, ew,” Harry wrinkled his nose. 

Draco laughed and held out his hand. Harry reached in the inner pocket of his dress robes and pulled out the shrunken cloak. He tapped it and it grew back to its normal size, and he handed it to Draco.

“This is amazing!” He whispered to Harry, fingering the fabric. “One of the Deathly Hallows, in your possession this whole time.”

“Oh,” Harry said, surprised. “You know about the Deathly Hallows?”

Draco snorted inelegantly. “Of course I have, Dipsy read Beedle the Bard to me all the time when I was young. I knew the Elder wand was real when Voldy started his hunt for it, and later when it killed him.”

“Did you know you were the wand’s true owner until I disarmed you at Malfoy Manor?” Harry blurted then winced; he didn’t know if it was a good idea to talk about it since they were obviously just triggered.

Draco looked scandalized. “Okay, let’s get out of here, steal a bottle of whiskey from the pub in the lobby, and go to my room to talk.”

Harry grabbed the cloak and unfurled it in the small space. He pulled it over Draco first, then himself. 

“I hope you don’t mind getting your knees dirty,” Harry said absently while making sure his shoes were hidden.

Draco grinned wickedly. “You have no idea, Potter.”

Harry blushed deeply but was spared having to reply when the table cloth was flipped up suddenly, and Gibson’s frowning face peered under. Harry automatically clapped a hand over Draco’s mouth, but yanked it away when Draco bit him. Gibson disappeared, and they giggled as quietly as they could.

Harry lifted the cloth on the side of the table that was nearest the edge of the cluster of tables, and Draco crawled out, Harry tight on his tail. His blush deepened when he realized how close to Draco’s arse he had to stay if he wanted to stay hidden. 

“If you break wind in my face, Malfoy, I’m kicking you out,” Harry said once they’d left the table cluster and were making a shuffling break for the hallway. He’d been under there with Ron enough to know it was a possibility.

Draco had to stop and sit because he was laughing so hard. “What the fuck, Harry-” he gasped, when he caught his breath. Harry just grinned and shrugged. Draco pursed his lips in amusement and started crawling again. Harry was weirdly satisfied with making Draco laugh.

They made it to the lobby. “Do we have to stay under this?” Harry griped, running into Draco’s arse for the third time. It was starting to piss him off how Draco kept stopping suddenly, like he was doing it on purpose.

“Oh, come on, Harry, I never got to be involved in the Golden Trio’s famous adventures, let me have this,” Draco whined.

“Okay, fine,” Harry could smell Draco’s cologne so strongly under there and it was starting to overwhelm him. His cock had been painfully hard since the first time he ran into Draco’s arse.

The stumbled over each other, giggling, making their way along the wall around large potted plants to the bar and held their breath as Draco swiped a large bottle of firewhiskey and pulled it under the cloak. 

“Shit, how are we going to carry this?” He held up the bottle.

“Here,” Harry offered, taking it and shrinking it down. “You know we have to pay for this, I’m an Auror, after all.”

“Eh, we’re in France, you have no jurisdiction here.” Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle, opened it, and took out a galleon. He slipped it into the spot the bottle had been in, considered for a second, and left a second one. “For a tip. In honor of Americans.”

Harry scowled. He’d been having so much fun, he’d forgotten about their wager.

Draco was on the move again and Harry had to scramble to keep up.

They stood up in the lift, still covered, biting their lips when a couple got on and began snogging desperately, thinking they were alone. They weren’t a particularly attractive couple, but he and Draco silently cheered them on from under the cloak. The couple got off on four and Draco hit the button to ride to five.

When the doors opened, Harry expected Draco to throw off the cloak, but he continued to sneak along the corridor. Harry smiled to himself. It was actually pretty fun. He hadn’t done anything like that in years.

Draco turned back to Harry when they got to their doors. “Yours or mine?”

Harry blushed at the unintentional implication, but sputtered out, “Yours.”

Draco pulled out his key and unlocked his door with a twist and closed it behind them.

He pulled off the cloak with a flourish. “Make yourself comfortable,” Draco gestured to the chairs. 

Harry enlarged the whiskey and sat. Draco brought over two cups and filled them. They clinked them together and threw back the enormous shots.

It burned going down, and Harry coughed. He hadn’t been out to the pub in so long, but he generally had a very high tolerance and could drink anyone but Ginny under the table. Draco poured a second which he downed swiftly as well. That one was smoother, and Draco poured another for each to just sip on. Harry could swear he could feel the effects of it already. He got comfortable in his chair and sipped the liquor contentedly.

“Look at us, old sport,” Draco said in his poshest voice, holding up his tumbler, “just two gentlemen, just having crawled the length of a hotel lobby, sipping whiskey, solving the world’s problems.”

Harry chuckled. “Is this what you envisioned when you thought we would be friends when we were little?”

“That among other things,” Draco said mysteriously. “So, about this Elder wand thing. Explain.”

Harry began the story the night Draco let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Draco listened silently as Harry told him what he’d observed, what he’d thought about Snape at the time. He usually became unnerved and upset to talk about such things, but it was different with Draco; he’d actually been there. He launched into the story about hunting for Horcruxes and camping in misery, the raid on the ministry, the sword sent by Snape in the Forest of Dean. He talked well over an hour, Draco only speaking up to clarify a few things and pouring more whiskey. Harry told him about his dreams. Seeing Draco being forced to do Voldemort’s bidding. From the corner of his eye, he could see Draco grip his glass tighter, but Harry fumbled forward to the incident at the Manor, Dobby dying, and burying him by the sea.

He looked over at Draco and was surprised to see him blinking back tears.

“He was my house elf all my life, you know. Just because he was a servant didn’t mean I didn’t care for him. Father was so angry when you set him free,” Draco chuckled. “He raged about it for weeks.”

“He tried to kill me that day, in the hall outside Dumbledore’s office, you know,” Harry stated. 

“What?” Draco gaped at him. “That seems a little extreme.”

“To be fair, I had just destroyed the first Horcrux that he’d been holding onto since the first war. The one he’d slipped to Ginny in Flourish and Blotts.”

“Harry, were you in Knockturn Alley that day?” Draco asked suddenly.

“Actually I was. Stuck hiding in an Iron Maiden in creepy old-”

“In Borgin and Burke,” Draco finished. “You were there that day. I was such an arsehole to Granger that year, really all years, I don’t deserve her forgiveness.”

“I’m sure she would if you-”

“Wow, she really is right about you,” Draco smiled shaking his head.

“Who?”

“Granger. Hermione! She said you’re so wrapped up in work, they barely see you anymore. That Ginny had been trying to break up with you for weeks, but she could never find you. Always at work.”

Harry blinked owlishly. “You spoke to Hermione about me?”

Draco sighed and settled back into his chair. “Yes, Potter, all the time. I came to thank her for the trials and apologize after the war, and though it was awkward and slow going at first, we have become friends.”

“Are we friends?” Harry was suddenly concerned that he would be rejected. 

Draco smirked at him, making his stomach fill with butterflies.

“If you like,” he drawed.

Harry grinned. He put down his glass with a clatter on the the table and shushed it. He stood and the world tilted, so he sat again, giggling.

“I have to take a wee, but I’m drunk,” he laughed. Draco was already laughing as well, amused to watch Harry find his balance and stagger off to the ensuite.

He made it just in time, flushing and washing his hands. Draco’s cologne stood by the sink, and Harry grabbed it and sprayed it impulsively. Some got in his mouth, but the potion smelled heavenly. Light and citrus-y, like unicorn tears. Harry tilted his head and sprayed it again. Yeah, exactly like unicorn tears. Okay, he really was pissed.

“Potter, did you get lost?” Draco called through the door.

Harry fumbled for the door knob and yanked it open. Unfortunately Draco was leaning against it and he fell into the room, landing on Harry. 

“Ow,” Harry’s head hit the tile with a thunk. “That would probably hurt, but as I’m pissed right now, I can’t feel a thing.”

“Why did you say ow?” Draco seemed content to stay sprawled across Harry. “You smell like me.”

“No I don’t.” Harry lied as he managed to get out from under Draco and pull him over to his bed and lay him on it. Harry stretched out next to him on his belly so he could watch Draco’s face.

Draco smiled lazily up at him and began to tell stories of his youth, filling in some gaps for Harry, sometimes just talking about Narcissa and how wonderful she was. Harry’s eyes began to droop, the soothing sounds of Malfoy’s familiar voice lulling him to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some plot snuck in at the end of this chapter.
> 
> #teamharrywanksalot

Harry was having a wonderful dream. In it, he was flying on his broom, something he hadn’t done in ages, and Draco was there too. They were chasing the snitch, but instead of crashing into each other, they were laughing and shouting, flipping around one another. Draco was smiling down at him when the snitch appeared by his shoulder. Harry flew closer slowly, wanting to take the snitch by surprise, but his lips fell against Draco’s and they were kissing-

The dream fell away and Harry could feel a warm body spooned against his. He wrapped his arms tighter, pulling the body closer and froze.

He was definitely still a little drunk. This was Draco, not Ginny, and he shouldn’t presume the contact was wanted. 

Harry sat up and waited until the world tilted back to the proper place and looked down at Draco as he slept peacefully.

Draco’s eyelashes were a darker gold than his hair, twitching on his cheeks as he dreamed. His hair was a mess- crawling around under the invisibility cloak had probably done the same to Harry’s- but Draco’s looked sexy as hell draped all over the pillow and across his cheek. Harry reached out and moved a strand of hair away from his forehead, smiling when Draco hummed in his sleep. 

Harry needed to get out of there before he did something stupid. 

Like kiss Draco Malfoy’s sleeping face. Or wanking like a creeper while watching him sleep.

He shook his head and rolled off the bed, losing his balance and falling in a heap. Draco didn’t move. Harry tried again, caught his balance, and tiptoed from the room, closing the door quietly. He found his key and staggered to his own door, shutting it quickly and shedding his clothes as he made his way to the bed. He had his trousers off, his outer robes flipped over a chair, and his shirt unbuttoned when his legs hit the mattress, tumbling him over. He yanked his pants down and grabbed his half-hard cock, wanking aggressively. Behind his closed eyes he saw himself make a different choice to snog Malfoy, waking him up and taking him from behind. Draco would close his eyes and arch his back, calling out Harry’s name as he came.

“Ungh, Draco, fuck yessssssss!” Harry came quickly and intensely, milking out every last drop, making a mess on his dress shirt. He wiped his hand on the bedspread and closed his eyes. He would catch his breath and get in the shower. In a minute.

When Harry opened his eyes, the sky above him had started to darken with the colors of the evening. How long had he been out? He sat up and looked around, feeling sober and achy, a little bit hungover in the late afternoon. 

His hand was covered in dry come, as was the bedspread. His limp cock was still out, and his trousers were at his ankles. He sincerely hoped housekeeping didn’t come in while he was asleep.

Harry fumbled for his wand and cast a few cursory cleaning charms and wondered if he should wake up Malfoy for the evening lectures. If he wasn’t already down there, chatting with the American.

He jumped up and groaned, wishing he had some hangover potion, realized it was only 4 o’clock, and stumbled to the loo. There on the counter sat a small potion with a label tied to it. 

_Hangover Potion, Compliments of the Hotel_ it read in fancy script. Harry popped off the cap and choked it down, trying not to picture a house elf placing it there while he laid exposed on the bed.

After a hot shower, he felt much better. He dressed and made it to the dining room by 5.

Draco was sitting in Harry’s seat, chatting with the American with the shaggy hair who was sitting in Draco’s seat. They seemed cozy, and it suddenly irritated Harry more than it should have.

“Harry!” Draco called cheerily as he approached. “This is my dear friend Bradley from the US. He’s been telling me all about American foot-ball? It sounds ghastly- like muggle rugby, but they actually wear protection.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Bradley. “I know what American football is.” He sat in an unoccupied chair across from them.

Draco snorted- Harry thought he might still be drunk from lunch- and flapped a hand at Harry. “Pfft, don’t mind him, he’s surly because there were no girls from America at your table.” He leaned into the blushing man. “I, myself, am very happy with what flew over the pond.” Draco winked.

Harry gritted his teeth against the urge to punch his former enemy. At least that felt familiar in this surreal experience.

Draco leaned in a little further and whispered something to Bradley that Harry couldn’t hear. Bradley stood quickly, bumping the table and grabbed his drink to steady it. He was blushing deeply, and Harry could almost see the arousal roll off him in waves. 

“Excuse me,” he said, stuttering a little, but smiling. “I have to, um, find the bathroom, or something.” He looked around and started weaving his way through the crowded tables toward the back of the room.

Food was arriving at the table.

“Harry,” Draco sort of slurred, sounding more posh than usual. “Do be a dear and place a stasis charm on my meal until I come back. Should be just a moment, really.” He winked at Harry, laughing when Harry rolled his eyes, trying to keep the anger contained.

He watched Draco practically sashay away, following the American at a leisurely pace. 

Harry looked down at his unrecognizable French food and blinked. Was Draco going to suck that bloke off in the loo? It sure seemed like it. He looked at the rest of the room- everyone else hadn’t taken notice of the events, that sat chatting happily, assigned seats apparently forgotten in favor of meeting new friends.

Ha. Draco sure had made a new friend and now Harry would have to attend the last two days of the conference taking notes and trying to fall asleep while Draco and ‘Bradley’ shagged their brains out in Draco’s bed.

Harry felt a little aroused, but still angry. Why should he care who stuffs their cock in Draco? 

He wanted to go back to his room, but he was afraid Malfoy and his new conquest would be loud through the wall, and Harry would just sit there having a bisexual crisis, probably sadly wanking to the sounds. 

He needed to get out, he was starting to feel like a panic attack was coming on.

He stood and made his apologies to a few people that stopped him to shake his hand and strode from the room. He made it to the kitchens before he started to breathe funny, not seeming to get the right amount of air in. What the fuck was happening to him? Malfoy sure as fuck never upset him like that when they were fighting at school. At each other’s throats, struggling and casting spells, finally the showdown in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, where he hurt Draco so badly. 

Harry felt lightheaded. He must have attracted the attention of some of the kitchen elves, because soon he was guided by small, comforting hands to sit down and have a cup of tea. Harry drank it shakily, his breath still catching on his words as he thanked them in poor French. They didn’t seem to mind, and a couple of elves brought him bread and cheese and fruit, cooing over him in French. 

Soon he was calm again and full. He actually felt more calm than he had before, and suspected the elves had put a dash of calming draught in his tea. He didn’t mind a bit- they probably warned him, but as his French was horrible, he didn’t understand.

He smiled pleasantly to himself, giving a handshake and a hug to the two elves assisting him. They giggled and blushed. It seemed he was still pretty famous among Elves, even if their wizards snubbed him.

Soon he was ushered into the lift in the back of the kitchen and was riding up to his floor. 

His key was in the lock and his shoes kicked off before he heard it.

The moans coming through the wall were unmistakable. 

Harry’d felt so content after eating, he had forgot his plan to not go back up to the room.

He sat dumbly on his bed, right by the headboard, and listened. 

“Oh, Draco,” the American moaned. “Yes, right there, you slut. You suck cock better than anyone I’ve ever- oh, fuck! Your mouth is better than any girl I’ve ever been with. Fuck!”

Harry could hear the faint sounds of slurping through the wall. Despite his conflicted feelings, his cock began to harden in his pants. 

Draco’s voice, rough from the blowjob, growled lowly. “Lay back, I’m going to ride you, and you better let me hear you.”

Harry shuttered and fell back on his bed, closing his eyes and picturing Draco kneeling over the American’s spit-slicked cock. The man next door groaned loudly, cursing as Draco must have started to press his arse down on his cock, clutching it firmly in his hand, pushing at the tip until it breached the tightness of Draco’s hole. Harry had his cock in his hand, squeezing the tip hard, trying to picture it. 

The American was swearing loudly, and Harry started hearing the slapping sounds of sex as Draco bottomed from the top, riding the blokes cock at a punishing pace. As much as Bradley was making noise, Draco was silent, his harsh breathing the only evidence of him. 

Harry bit his lip, wishing hard that Draco would say _something_ , anything really, something to complete the picture in his mind, but no utterance ever came.

The bloke called out, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so fucking hard!”

The noise stopped for a pause of three seconds.

“Fuck!” There were whimpers as the man apparently came in Draco. 

Seconds later, Draco simply grunted. He must have come too.

Harry wondered what it looked like, Draco’s hand working himself as he spilled-

“Hey!” the American protested. “Why’d you get come on me? Fuck, I gotta clean this off of me before I see the guys-”

“Well, here’s your wand,” came Draco’s voice, finally, sounding cool and disinterested. “Do hurry up, I have after dinner plans with a friend, and I’m already late.”

“What the fuck, dude?” the man sounded hurt. “I thought we were gonna, uh, I don’t know, hang out? Maybe...I dunno.”

Harry almost felt sorry for him. Their voices were moving in the direction of the door. 

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around the conference.” Draco had a smug smile, Harry could tell by just the sound of his voice.

“I guess so,” the bloke muttered. “Can I call you?”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Draco said soothingly, opening the door. “Goodbye, Bradley, thanks for the shag.”

The door shut resolutely, and Harry could heard faint swearing from the hallway as Bradley stomped past his door toward the lift.

Harry’s dick was only half hard, his hand having stopped moving several minutes earlier. He felt hollow, having eavesdropped on Draco’s shag. He wasn’t sure if it was just because he wanted to be the one with Draco, or he was just desperate for a shag of his own. 

He rolled over, moving so his face was in his pillow, his hips moving to thrust his cock into his hand again, suddenly desperate to come, just something to distract him from his confusing thoughts. His pillow stifled his moans as he tried to work himself closer to orgasm.

“Potter, you over there?” Draco’s voice called, very close to the wall.

Harry bit his lip, his cock throbbing at the sound of Draco’s voice.

“Yeah, I, er, was thinking about a kip, but, well...” There was a silent beat. Harry’s face burned.

“Could you hear all that?” Draco sounded amused.

Harry’s hand resumed on its own accord as he rolled onto his back. 

“Yeah, reckon I heard a little bit, I guess,” Harry fumbled, trying to make his voice even as he rushed toward the edge, pulling at his balls to prolong it.

“Hmm. Well I hoped you enjoyed it,” Draco drawled.

“Didn’t sound like you enjoyed it much,” Harry said back, without thinking.

Draco burst into laughter. “You heard the whole thing, you perv!” Draco said delightedly. “This your first time hearing two blokes shagging? Or did you hear me wanking last night too? Did it disturb your latent heterosexuality?”

Harry snorted, slowing his hand, letting the precome he squeezed out spread all over his shaft as he stroked. It felt so good, talking to Draco through the wall and touching himself. He must still be feeling the effects of the calming drought.

“Naw, not much of that left these days,” he quipped back.

There was an audible gasp from the other side of the wall.

“Are you having me on, Potter?”

Harry laughed wildly, speeding up his hand. “Nope, I’m having it off, actually.”

“Of course you are,” Draco’s voice was sly and singing, and oh so close, like his lips were caressing the wall. 

“Yup,” Harry’s hips arched off the bed as he wanked harder, no longer caring what Draco heard through the wall. “Ah!”

“Harry, are you _really_ doing what I think you’re doing over there?” Draco’s voice had dropped an octave, making a pulse of desire surge through Harry as he chased his orgasm, nearly there.

“What,” Harry gasped, “is it that you,” he gasped again, “think I’m doing?”

Draco’s voice was breathless and seemed to come from directly behind him.

“I think you’re having a wank over there, right after hearing me fuck that American, am I right?”

Harry gasped, having it said aloud was the thing that tipped him over the edge. He came with a shout, release hitting his shirt and hand, stroking himself through the waves, panting loudly.

“Not anymore,” Harry laughed, flopping back and feeling around for his wand. His breathing slowed as he cleaned himself with a charm, realizing it was quiet next door.

“Draco?” He called, worried he’d chased him off.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh good. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Harry giggled, sighing happily and curling up on his side.

“Potter, are you drunk or something?”

“I think the kitchen elves put something in my tea. I feel delightful.” Harry rolled onto his stomach and addressed the headboard.

“You sound delightful,” Draco sounded concerned. “Did they tell you what it was that they gave you?”

“Nope,” Harry sang. “Nopeity, dopeity, dopeity, doo!”

“Harry? Harry, I think I need to come over there.”

“Okey dokey artichokey!” Harry’s eyes were getting heavy so he curled up into a ball.

Draco’s mumbling voice moved away and Harry missed it immediately.

“Don’t leave me Draco, come back!”

“Let me in, Harry!” Draco called from far away, near the door. There was a banging. It was confusing and Harry curled tighter. 

“Dracoooooo….” Harry called, smiling. It sounded like Draco was trying to get the door open. How nice. Maybe they could visit and have tea.

“Hold on, Harry!” There was a loud crash, and Harry felt Draco’s hands on him, pulling him up, trying to make him sit up on the bed. “Stay awake, I don’t know what they gave to you.” Harry leaned heavily on him, enjoying the warmth of Draco’s body. 

“Draco, I like to call you Draco,” Harry slurred, smiling. “I always liked your name, you know, dragon of the night sky-”

“You’re absolutely pissed,” Draco tried holding him back to peer in his eyes.

“One time I found the Draco constellation,” Harry said seriously. “I always look for it, you know.”

“That’s nice, Harry, did you say the kitchen elves gave it to you?” Draco was running his wand over Harry’s chest, the tip turning an ugly blue.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I died one time, do you remember? I only came back because of your mum. That and the stone, do you know about the stone, Draco dear?”

“Room service!” Draco waved his wand frantically, moving so Harry’s face fell into his neck. He smelled wonderful, of citrus, aromatic and fresh. Harry burrowed his face in a little, closing his eyes.

There were some popping sounds and Draco shouting angrily in a language Harry couldn’t determine, and Harry drifted off, smiling happily into the warm neck he wanted to kiss so badly, but couldn’t muster up the energy to do so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um...things get weird? Just go with it, okay? Guys?

The room was cool and dark when Harry awoke. His mouth was drier than the desert, and his head pounded worse than the hangover from….earlier?

“Ugh,” Harry tried to sit up, but gentle hands pushed him back into his pillow, and put a cup of water to his lips. He drank slowly and sighed.

“What happened?” Harry’s voice sounded rough, as if he’d been shouting.

“You were cursed,” Draco sounded exhausted. “I don’t know who did it, or why, or even when, but it happened sometime after we...we hung out in my room after lunch.”

“Oh.” Harry didn’t know how to respond. 

“If I hadn’t gotten here in time...you could have-” Draco’s voice caught slightly and he cleared his throat. “Well, it certainly would have killed you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quickly, trying to make his eyes adjust to the dim light, wondering where his glasses were.

“Do you remember anything?” Draco sounded odd.

Harry huffed a laugh. “I remember a few embarrassing things I’d like to never speak of again.” Harry thought about wanking while Draco listened and blushed deeply. “Erm, sorry about that.”

“I see.” Draco was quiet, but didn’t leave.

“What time is it? Are we missing anything important?” Harry tried to sit up again, this time Draco assisted in propping him up with a pillow to rest against the headboard. He handed Harry his glasses. 

“Not really,” Draco shrugged, moving to sit next to him.

Harry could see that Draco had been lying next to him, watching him while he was out. They sat shoulder to shoulder in the darkness of the room in silence while Harry sipped water.

He had the wild urge to hold Draco’s hand.

“Harry,” Draco started slowly. “You told me some things, personal things, that I don’t think you meant to.”

“Oh?” Harry shifted nervously, realising he’d been dressed in his pyjamas. When had that happened?

“Yes. I...I promise you I won’t repeat any of it. I wouldn’t do that to you, alright?”

Harry tilted his head in confusion. “Thanks, I guess. What did I tell you?”

Draco looked drawn and sadder than Harry had seen in a long time. He looked like the boy who had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts.

“You told me everything…” Draco paused and worried his lip with his teeth for a moment. “Everything about…” his voice caught again. “When you died.”

Harry twisted to look at Draco in the face. “I’m so sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to trigger you, or something. Fuck! I should have kept my mouth shut!”

Draco shook his head firmly. “It’s not your fault, Harry, the curse was designed to make you talk excessively, like a veritaserum, only it’s strong enough to put you in a hypnotic state. I think whomever it was that did this to you was trying to gain information from you about the resurrection stone.”

“What did I say?” Harry’s stomach dropped out. He wasn’t entirely sure where he’d left the resurrection stone, and in the wrong hands, it could…

“Nothing. About that, anyway. There was much more you spoke about, but you don’t know where it is.” Draco looked at his hands. “I do, however,” he whispered.

Harry started. “You do?”

Draco nodded. “Mum found it, nearly tripped over it when you were being carried out of the forest. She’s kept it hidden ever since, even kept it from Father. I, and now you, are the only ones who know of its existence.”

“What does she plan to do with it?” Harry felt cold.

“Keep it hidden forever if she has to. The only reason she told me was so I could look after it when she’s gone.”

Harry sighed in relief. He felt a pang of love for Narcissa- she was still sort of awkward and cold when he visited Andromeda and Teddy, but she tried so hard. She was so careful and solomon, and Harry knew she had lost so much in the war just like everyone else.

“Your mum is...I’m glad she’s the one who is taking care of the stone.” Harry smiled weakly. “So what else did I say?”

Draco smiled wryly. “Everything. The cupboard, Hagrid coming to find you, seeing you at Madam Malkin’s. School. Sirius. The war. It was so much, Harry. So much. I never realized-” He looked away.

Harry picked up Draco’s hand and held it tightly, opting not to say anything, but to just be there. Draco squeezed it back and dropped it to stand up. Harry wasn’t sure if it was a rejection, or something else.

Draco cleared his throat and smoothed his robes as he stood next to the bed. “I will look after you for the rest of this conference, but then I think it best we part ways after this. I am very busy these days, and being reminded of the past is often crippling when I’ve tried so hard to move on, so...”

Harry was stunned. “Draco-”

“Potter, this is for the best, I wanted to be friends, but this- I...I’m too... I can’t deal with... I need to…” He was backing away to the door, making his escape. 

“Wait!” Harry cried out, struggling to stand, his limbs feeling too heavy. “You can’t just do this! You can’t just come and interrupt my miserable life and then just leave. I...I like being your friend, Draco.”

“Harry…” Draco looked away, thinking for a moment. He opened the door to the hall. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. You should get some sleep.”

The door clicked shut, breaking Harry in two. He slumped back on the bed, his chest tight. What had he done? 

He felt cut off at the legs. He needed to know why Draco left him, he needed to win him back. 

Was win the right word? What was the odd thing that had happened between them in the last two days? Harry growled in frustration. His mind was still off, swirling around and uneven. He closed his eyes and slept again.

*******

Harry was awoken in the night by the last thing he wanted to hear.

Draco’s moaning voice with a deeper one above it. 

Harry pulled the pillow over his face and grit his teeth. The voice wasn’t the same as the French guy or the American, so Draco had somehow pulled a third time since they had been there. Some mystery man to pound Draco into the mattress, leaving poor sick Harry to listen and sadly wank. 

Draco was really vocal this time. Harry pulled the pillow off and listened for a moment, wondering why this had suddenly become his life. Listen to his ex-new friend and ex-enemy get fucked less than three feet from his head separated by a thin wall of plaster. In spite of it all, he shoved his hand into his pyjamas and started wanking, skin alight with humming pleasure from Draco’s moans. He was so close so quickly, the sounds pushing him to the edge.

A low Russian voice growled as the rhythm of skin-on-skin faltered, and Draco cried out and came, cursing and shuttering. Harry bit down on his arm to stifle the shout that erupted when he came hard, splattering over his fist onto his chest. The Russian must have come as well, and the noise ended. There were murmurs Harry couldn’t hear, and the sound of feet leaving the room, the door shutting behind them.

Harry wondered why he hadn’t just put up a silencing charm. Or why Draco hadn’t either. Maybe he liked hearing it. And maybe Draco liked being heard. 

“I’m awake now,” Harry said, annoyed. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Draco called back, not sounding sorry at all. “You could always put up a silencing charm, you know.”

“Well so could you,” Harry snapped back.

“I’m not the one with the problem with the noise, so why should I?” 

That pompous prick. “You’re the one doing the shagging!” Harry was getting angry.

“You’re the one that wants to hear me shagging,” Draco’s voice was now taunting. 

“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you? I could bloody well do without it, thanks. Just because I was fucked up on some curse and had it off after you had sex was just a coincidence. You had...woken me up!” Harry almost forgot the lie he’d told. 

“Yeah. Woken you up. Tell yourself what you like, Potter, but you got off on two blokes shagging, and asked me if you could watch sometime.”

Harry blushed deeply. He surely didn’t remember saying that.

“What? Well, you practically make me watch, fucking every bloke you meet.” _Except me,_ Harry thought.

“What are you saying, Potter?” Draco’s voice was low and dangerous. “Are you calling me a whore?”

“If the shoe fits…” Harry said without thinking. Draco breathed in sharply.

Harry felt like punching himself. “No, wait, I didn’t mean that, truly I didn’t. I don’t mind, really I don’t, and I don’t judge you. Hell, I’m the one over here listening and getting off. That’s more fucked up, really, if you think about it.”

There was a long silence. Harry thought maybe Draco had put on a silencing charm until he finally spoke up again.

“Alright, Potter.”

“Alright what?”

“Alright you can watch me get shagged. We can go to a club in the city, I’ll pull and we can come back up here and you can sit under your invisibility cloak and wank yourself raw for all I care.”

Harry was dumbfounded. “Erm...Okay?” What the fuck was happening?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no beta keeping me in check. I barely spellcheck, tbh. I'm a hack lol but I like writing

Harry was on edge the next day. 

Draco acted as if nothing was wrong, but his smiles didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his usual banter wasn’t aimed at Harry. 

Harry unexpectedly missed Draco’s attention and he didn’t know how to fix it.

The speakers were more interesting than the day before. Harry tried to keep his focus on the wizard from South Africa as he spoke about the addition of a PR department in their ministry, and one of Bradley’s co-workers gave a presentation on muggle politics in the US and how they were affecting not only the rest of the muggle world, but the wizarding world as well. He spoke vaguely of a committee that would ‘deal’ with the situation, and handed off the mic to Bradley. 

Every bloke in the room was a potential shag for Draco in Harry’s eyes.

Harry knew that wasn’t true, but he couldn’t help but profile them all. He should be trying to solve the mystery of who cursed him, but the French Aurors were located all over the convention room to work that case, so for once in his life, Harry didn’t interfere in a case that wasn’t his. 

Draco seemed on alert, his eyes scanning the room constantly. Probably looking for a shag.

“Potter, who did you have contact with before you left the dining room after dinner?” Draco asked when there was a short break.

Harry was shaken out of his musing. “Erm, I dunno? The Swedish table, there-” he pointed at a table of blondes that were smiling brightly at one another, all so very attractive, witches and wizards both. “And there. The Romanians.”

Draco nodded and casually peeked at both tables. Harry studied his elegant profile and gritted his teeth against the urge to slip his hand into his robes and push down on his cock.

Harry should have been on high alert. He should have been working the case. But he didn’t want to, all he wanted to do was obsess about Malfoy and what he was up to. Huh.

The crowd was breaking for a while and Draco dragged Harry up by the arm and escorted him from the room, nodding at the French Aurors as he passed. Harry twisted his arm to release his hold.

“I can walk on my own,” he griped.

“Not now, Potter,” Draco muttered through a pasted-on smile. “Let’s go back to our rooms and change for dinner.”

Harry looked down at his robes. He didn’t want to change again.

Draco smiled grimly, meeting his eyes for the first time all day. “Make sure to dress for the club under your robes. As soon as dinner is over, we leave. Don’t dress like a homeless person, alright?” His eyes flashed with heat and lip curled up in a slight sneer and Harry quivered on the inside. 

He looked away from Draco at the remark, unable to hide the shameful pleasure at holding his attention again. 

*********

The rest of the afternoon went along at a snail’s pace, and Harry was ready to pull his hair out when dessert was finally served after dinner.

He had on a pair of dark and tight denims on under his robes, and a short-sleeved black t shirt. It was as dressed up as he could get, so he hoped Draco approved. Not that he needed approval, he planned on hiding under the invisibility cloak all night.

They left the hotel wordlessly, and Draco grasped Harry’s arm and side-alonged him to their destination. 

Harry looked around the dark alley where they landed, spying a couple in the dark beside some bins, looking suspiciously like they were shagging against the wall.

“Already can’t wait to watch, can you?” Draco hissed, yanking his arm.

“No, I didn’t-”

“Whatever,” Draco rolled his eyes and lead Harry to the front of the club.

It was loud, and the dance music pumped so loudly it could be felt through the sidewalk. Draco paid the bouncer for the both of them, and they stepped into the club. It was packed and hot, the swirling lights and pumping bass filling Harry with a euphoric feeling. He wondered if the club was charmed to make you feel that way or if it was a combined effort of everyone on the dancefloor mingling their magic. 

Draco pulled Harry to the back of the club. He motioned for Harry to put the cloak on, so Harry did, no one even looking his way as he disappeared. 

It seemed quieter under there, and Harry could finally get a good look around the room. 

There were couples- _gay_ couples- grinding against one another on the dancefloor. There were both witches and wizard couples present, but it was mostly wizards on the dancefloor. He moved closer, careful to stand out of the way and not get ran into.

Draco had moved to the bar, leaning against it, looking like sex on two legs. He’d shrunk his robes and hid them Merlin-knows-where and Harry got to see the outfit he’d only caught hints of at dinner.

Draco wore a thin, filmy, white shirt- tight against his skin. His trousers looked leather, black and hugging his curves so snuggly, Harry could swear he saw both the length and thickness of Draco’s cock.

It was starting to press against Draco’s tight trousers, Harry’s doing the same as he stared. He watched as several blokes approached Draco and tried to chat him up, but the blond bombshell refused with a smug smile on his lips, until a bloke managed to coax him onto the dancefloor.

Draco lead the bloke to the side of the dancefloor where Harry got a close view.

“This is the one he’d going to shag,” Harry whispered to himself in awe, the sound lost in the pounding bass of the music. It was such a surreal thought, and his masculine appearance just heightened Harry’s arousal. He was shorter than Harry, dark like him, and muscular. He would probably look good fucking Draco.

Draco let the bloke dance behind him, swaying to the music, hands running all over Draco’s body. Draco let his head fall back on the bloke’s shoulder, his eyes drooped and lustful. He seemed really into it, swaying and grinding.

Harry’s eyes raked all over Draco’s body as they danced. His cock was trapped in those tight trousers, his neck flushed with desire, and his eyes-

His eyes were staring directly into Harry’s.

Harry quickly checked to make sure the cloak was still in place and he stared right back. A smirk curled Draco’s mouth, almost as if he knew Harry was watching. He was undulating back against the bloke, running his fingertips all over his own body, and staring Harry dead in the eyes. 

Harry was so hard in his own tight denims he could barely think. This was a horrible mistake. 

He wanted Draco so badly. He needed to wank. He could probably do it under the invisibility cloak- it wouldn’t be the first time-

He flashed back to fifth year when he’d been sneaking around the castle and found a couple of Hufflepuff seventh years fucking in an empty classroom. They hadn’t notice him slip in, covered as he was, and he watched them snog until he was hard as a rock, feeling guilty, but when he saw the boy push his dick into the girl’s wet pussy, he found himself wanking quickly and frantically under the cloak, coming on it, and slumping to the floor. He vanished his come, zipped up his trousers, and snuck out just as the girl began making noises like a squeaking dog.

But this was even more erotic than that had been. And Draco and the bloke were fully dressed.

Harry watched, a tight feeling growing in his lower abdomen, as Draco let the man slip his fingers into the waistband on the leather trousers. 

Harry needed to get out of there, it was all a mistake. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about a man, he shouldn’t be considering wanking in public, he shouldn’t be getting off to Draco on the other side of the hotel wall, he shouldn’t want to watch Draco Malfoy get fucked by another man on his bed. His life was clearly out of control.

Harry was frozen as he watched the man wedge his hand down Draco’s pants and grip his cock. Draco lost eye contact with Harry as his eyes rolled back. Harry watched the bloke slowly wank him to the music, still swaying. 

Harry couldn’t help but slide his hand into his own jeans, working his hand around his cock, licking his lips and wanting to get a closer look. But not yet.

Draco slapped playfully at the bloke’s hand and winked at Harry. He whispered something into the bloke’s ear and started pulling him off the dance floor. Harry followed, letting go of his cock in favor of awkwardly pushing through the crowd without rubbing it on anyone.

He followed Draco and the man to the apparation point and moved closer to Draco when he held his hand out behind his back.

Draco’s cool slender fingers felt right in Harry’s hand, but he didn’t get to muse on it much before the world twisted away and they were in the lobby of the hotel.

Draco laughed and pulled the man to the lift. He was speaking in growling French to Draco, and Harry cursed himself for not knowing enough to follow along.

The lift ride was tense. Harry stood to Draco’s left, brushing against his arm to let him know he was still there. The bloke was on the right, plastered to Draco’s side, unable to quit mumbling in French into his ear. Draco would chuckle every so often, glancing over at Harry and smirking, seeming to see right into his eyes through the cloak.

They stumbled down the corridor like that, the bloke was a little tipsy. Draco paused at Harry’s door, then went on to his own, unlocking it and holding it open for the other two to enter.

Without much ado, the bloke grabbed Draco and started snogging him. Draco was unzipping the bloke, pulling his cock out right away. Harry’s mouth went dry and he went to take a seat in a chair near the fireplace to get a perfect view. 

He pulled both his trousers and pants down as he sat. Might as well get comfortable. 

Draco was nearly naked, his trousers open and the head of his long pink dick poking out, and he dropped to his knees to suck the guy’s cock down. Harry’s hand was already stroking, watching as Draco’s lips stretched around the cock, and Draco somehow found his eyes again. While he should be looking up at the man he was going down on, his eyes sought out Harry and found him, as if he could see everything Harry did to himself. 

Harry suppressed a moan as Draco slurped and sucked, giving Harry a show, it seemed, more than giving the bloke pleasure. Draco was slowly teasing his own dick, running his fingers lightly over it, and only Harry could possibly see from that angle. The bloke didn’t seem to notice anything was off, he was grunting and moaning as one would if a sexy, perfect wizard like Draco was sucking him off.

Draco pulled off his cock with a pop and wiggled out of the rest of his clothing. All his pale skin was on display, and Harry flashed back to fourth year when he saw Draco naked in the shower by accident. He’d forgotten about that. 

He was late to class and he left his charms book in the quidditch locker room. He had put on the cloak because Slytherin had just played Hufflepuff, and he didn’t want to have a run in with either of those houses. The showers were mostly empty, so Harry easily snuck to his locker and retrieved his book. The water had turned off and someone was singing to themselves.

It was a beautiful melody, and their voice bounced off the tiles and became multiplied. Harry stopped and watched and listened in awe as Draco wandered to the lockers from the shower, singing and holding his towel, very much exposed to Harry.

He had sucked a breath in, it had been the first time he’d blatantly stared at a naked bloke, so he looked as much as he wanted. He hated Malfoy at the time, but what an opportunity.

Draco had been drying his genitals when Harry realized he needed to get to class. The image of Draco Malfoy singing in a heavenly voice while fondling himself with a white fluffy towel stayed with Harry for a long time, but he’d forgotten about it until now.

Draco was pushed onto all fours, and he tossed a bottle of lube to the man as he positioned himself behind Draco on the bed.

The man poured lube all over two fingers, dropped the bottle on the bed, and spread Draco’s arse cheeks. Draco looked over his shoulder, and glanced over at Harry, spreading his legs wider to give him a good angle to see his hole. 

Harry’s breath caught.

It was perfect and pale, like the rest of Draco, and he watched as the man gently pushed in one finger, working in and out slowly.

Draco started moaning, begging something in French. The bloke added a second finger, and Draco began to thrust back on his hand. He gave the bloke more French directions, so the bloke grinned and pulled out his fingers and grabbed Draco’s arse cheeks again. He wiped the excess lube on his cock, and held Draco still by pressing a hand to the small of his back. 

Harry stood, moving silently closer, stepping out of his trousers and leaving them behind. He walked over next to Draco’s arse and watched as the man pushed the blunt tip of his cock against that tiny hole until it gave way, stretching around the cock, letting it further in a little at a time. Harry moved closer to Draco’s end, so he could watch his face. 

The bloke was in to the hilt, and he began a rocking rhythm, slowly fucking deeping into Draco’s arse. Harry stroked himself, mesmerized by the look on Draco’s face of pure bliss as he was entered over and over. Draco’s bright lust-filled eyes looked up and met his, Harry’s cock throbbing in his hand as he wanked. 

He could come by staring into those perfect grey eyes, those bitten lips, those flushed cheeks. 

Draco reached between his legs and started pulling on himself, mouth hanging open as Harry watched him work his fist, close to coming already.

Draco was moaning and making the most delicious sounds. Harry was so close to coming   
his legs were shaking as he tried to hold himself up. 

Draco’s arm gave out and he was face first in the pillow, moaning. The bloke was concentrating, chasing his pleasure, but holding back and waiting for Draco to come first like a gentleman. 

Harry knelt by the bed, face level with Draco’s and was pleased when Draco turned his head and found his eyes again. He was panting, his eyes glazed from arousal. His hand sped up on his cock, so Harry sped his up too. Draco’s lips were moving silently, trying to form a word.

“Harry,” he whispered, and came explosively in tandem with Harry, on the bedsheets below. Harry bit his lip so hard not to groan and splattered the inside of his cloak. He was glad he was kneeling or he would have fallen with the force of his orgasm.

Draco said his name. 

Draco had said his name….

What did that mean? 

As Harry slumped over by the bed, his thoughts raced, wondering if it was said just so Harry would pay attention or what?

The bloke behind Draco thrust one more time and .pulled out, wanking until he came all over the small of Draco’s back. Draco laid there, smiling contentedly at Harry, just letting the come hit his skin.

The bloke sagged off to the side and Draco reached for his wand on the nightstand where he left it. He whispered a cleaning charm, and then said it again, Harry feeling the come vanish from his hand and spent cock as Draco’s magic fluttered comfortably over his skin. Harry looked at the familiar Hawthorn wand in Draco’s hand and how naturally it fit there with Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around it.

Draco rolled over and said something to the bloke and the bloke chuckled and stood. He put his clothing back on while Draco casually lounged on his bed, twirling his wand.

When the bloke was dressed he picked up Draco’s hand and kissed it like a gentleman. Draco smiled genuinely and waved as the bloke departed and closed the door behind him.

“ _Revielo!_ ” Draco flicked his wand, pulling the cloak from Harry.

He kind of squeaked in surprise and covered his cock with his hands.

Draco was outright cackling. Harry blushed but smiled and went to retrieve his jeans. He hastily pulled them on while Draco lounged on his bed, still nude.

“Oh, Harry, I must say, I did enjoy that.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were having a good time.” Harry felt his stomach sour.

Draco rolled to the belly and turned to face Harry off the end of the bed. He arched his back and yawned. 

“No, idiot,” he smirked, “I enjoyed you watching me get buggered. It was quite an unexpected turn on. How did you like it?” He looked as if he already knew the answer,

Harry blushed harder and fumbled around to fold up his cloak.

“Oh, come on, Harry, it’s just sex, learn to enjoy it! We’ve already heard each other wank, you’ve heard me get shagged more then once, and now you’ve seen it up close. How. Did. You. Like. It?”

“You heard me wank?” Harry froze.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, you told me all about it when under the influence of the curse. Now answer the question.”

Harry relaxed his shoulders and breathed deeply. “I liked it. I mean, I really really liked it.” He came closer to the bed, looking down into his eyes. “I liked the way you danced at the club, and the way you sucked him off. And the way you begged him to fuck you.”

“Maybe your French isn’t that bad,” Draco pursed his lips, then smiled. “Next time, maybe we’ll find a bloke who won’t mind if you watch. That way _I_ can watch _you._ ”

Harry’s stomach erupted into butterflies and he flushed again. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Draco looked highly pleased with himself. “Well, off to bed, you, I need to speak with the Aurors downstairs again, see if they have any leads, and you get some rest.”

Harry smirked. “You sound like me on most days.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t most days, is it now?” 

Draco rolled again and gracefully rose, his round arse flexing as he walked to his wardrobe and used his wand to sift through his outfits. It seemed like such a private moment, Harry felt like he was intruding.

“Draco,” Harry asked suddenly. “Do you always bottom? Or do you top as well?”

Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry and winked. “I just love a hard, thick cock in my arse,” he sighed. “It’s a weakness.”

Harry chuckled and went to leave. 

“Harry,” Draco called after him.

“Yes?” He turned back and almost gasped at what he saw. Draco had loosely wrapped a blue dressing gown around his shoulders, and was standing in the middle of the room. The starlight from the ceiling and the lamps in the room gave him a ethereal glow, his hair shining, his flushed cheeks and bright eyes making Harry feel upside down for a moment.

“Be careful, please,” Draco almost whispered the words, accenting their significance.

“Of course.” Harry replied just as somberly.

He closed to door on the achingly beautiful scene and went to his room to have a small meltdown.

As soon as Draco’s door shut, signaling he had gone to talk to the Aurors, Harry fell to the floor, his heart pounding. 

How could he stand by and be okay with Draco getting fucked by some other bloke while he had to just watch? It was insane! But he _liked_ it. He felt ashamed that he liked it, but he did. So much. 

It was so good...the way Draco watched him the whole time. Held his eyes while he took pleasure from someone else, like it was all for Harry to see, all for him to watch. Gods, it felt good.

He always seemed to have Draco’s attention in school, watching him from across the Great Hall, taunting him in the courtyard, and on the quidditch pitch, ramming into him, trying to knock him off his broom.

This was so much different. It was _everything._

It was the release he’d been looking for, the change that he needed. 

Was there a word for what he was? Someone who likes to watch? Voyeur? 

Was it wrong? His mind warred with himself, but the image of Draco standing in his room, asking Harry to be careful filled him with a calm, a rightness. 

This could be a good thing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bless this mess

Harry watched Draco from across the club like the night before. 

The difference was that he wore no cloak. 

He watched Draco pass on several men, speaking into only a few of their ears and letting them know what he was looking for before finally allowing himself to be lead to the dancefloor.

Harry watched him, same as the night before, but he had to keep his hands off his cock through the whole process, content to just watch as Draco worked him up by grinding against a new bloke, this one slimmer than the other one, slightly taller too. He had a handsome face and dark blond hair, and he’d agreed to be watched by Harry when he and Draco shagged. Harry was jittering with anticipation at not only getting to watch Draco, but Draco watching Harry wank, getting off on Draco being fucked in front of him.

Harry shifted his cock in his trousers, letting it almost poke out of his waistband under his shirt.

Draco was watching him closely and licking his lips. He let the bloke touch him like last time, but this time he could see Harry too. 

Harry shifted his cock again a little, his hand lingering a little longer. He saw Draco gasp in a breath as he did it, and Harry couldn’t help but smirk a little- he knew he was large.

His cock was bigger than average, and the more cocks he’d seen recently, the more he realized how much bigger. Ginny had told him so, but he’d thought nothing of it, except that he had to go really slowly during anal sex sometimes because she complained he was thicker than her dildo. 

Draco swallowed visibly, and ground his arse harder on the bloke’s crotch as they danced together. 

Harry smirked and dragged his fingers along the length of his outlined cock, not caring who saw, liking that he could do this in another country and no one gave a damn. 

He could feel multiple eyes on him, but he continued to slouch/lean against the post, trailing the fingers of one hand over his cock and stare intently at Draco.

Draco was barely dancing anymore. He blinked and looked back from Harry’s cock to his eyes, and then scanned the room, frowning. There were many men watching Harry, looking very interested, and Draco narrowed his eyes as he saw them.

Was Draco the jealous type? Harry chuckled to himself and glanced at an attractive blond who was hanging out near his right. They caught eyes and Harry smiled suggestively. 

That was all it took before Draco was on him, grabbing his wirst and yanking him and the bloke he danced with through the crowd.

Harry laughed at the bloke’s confused expression. So Draco was _very_ jealous. 

The brisk walk to the apperation point was sexually tense, and the bloke looked Harry up and down, and nodded approvingly. He asked Draco something in French, and Draco shot Harry a warning look and growled a response. The bloke laughed and Harry grinned as Draco pouted and grabbed them both to apperate. Harry threw his cloak on, disappearing.

They landed in the lobby and made their way to the lift. They rode up quickly, and Draco shoved the two into his room quickly, yanking off the invisibility cloak.

“What?” Harry giggled innocently.

“You know what.” Draco pointed in his face. “Now get naked. Me and Jacques here want a good look at that prick of yours.”

Jacques’ eyebrows went up and he pulled his shirt over his head and stopped to see Harry disrobe.

Harry flushed and pulled his shirt off, feeling two sets of eyes rake over his body. He shivered and felt his cock swell again. He slipped off his shoes and socks and slowly lowered his trousers and pants, standing up but keeping his distance from the other two. Jacques whistled lowly and gave Harry a thumbs up and a smile. That actually made Harry feel a lot better about the situation, knowing the bloke wasn’t going to anticipate sex with Harry.

Draco was scowling in an adorable, possessive way. He stared hard at Harry as he crossed to his chair and pulled it closer to the bed, only a couple of feet away, and sat down, accio’ing the lube and getting a palmful, slowly just spreading it around his erection with his fingertips.

Draco was undressed, as was the bloke, and they moved to the bed. This time, the bloke pushed Draco to sit on the bed and spread his legs so he could kneel between them. Draco leaned back and watched Harry watch the bloke suck and lick at Draco’s pink, flushed cock. 

Harry’s breathing sped up, as did his wanking. He spread his legs wider, rolling his balls in his hands and watching the bloke take Draco in his mouth. Harry licked his lips, wondering with Draco’s cock tasted like, felt like in his mouth. He looked back up at Draco’s eyes, where they were fixed on him, moving between his hand and his face. Draco’s eyes were so blown already, and his mouth open and panting. The bloke worked his cock quickly before pushing him back and spreading his legs wider, pushing his knees to his chest.

Draco moaned when the bloke tongued his puckered hole. Harry moaned as well, cursing softly as the bloke licked him in earnest, opening his hole with his tongue, slipping it in.

Harry again wondered what it tasted like. He could smell Draco’s cologne and musk and arousal from his seat, and he bit his lip to keep from rising and going to see for himself. 

But he didn’t want that. Not right now. Not while they were giving him such a good show.

Two fingers were pushed into Draco’s hole and he shouted as the bloke massaged his prostate, contented to work Draco with his hands and watch Harry as well. 

Harry liked the feel of being watched, but he only had eyes for Draco. Draco was flushed and sweating as his prostate was stimulated, and his mouth hung open as he clutched the sheets.

Jacques paused and lubed his cock, turning Draco over, pulling him to his knees. Harry couldn’t see his eyes anymore, so he stood and went to the side of the bed like the last time. 

Draco was whimpering as Harry came closer, precome dribbling down onto his shaft as he knelt beside the bed.

“No, I want to see,” Draco whispered. Harry nodded and Draco mumbled something to the man about to shove his cock into Draco.

They moved over on the bed and Draco motioned for Harry to kneel on the bed beside them. Harry did so, and Jacques settled Draco on his back again. Harry could see Draco’s hole, already loose and wet, clenching around nothing. The Frenchman pushed the blunt head of his cock slowly against the winking hole until it popped in.

Harry shuddered and sped up his hand. He scooted forward on his knees so Draco could look directly up to Harry wanking over his face. His eyes were mostly pupil, and his lips were a perfect dark pink and parted in ecstacy, watching every move Harry made. 

Jacques was just setting up a pace, and Harry already felt really to come. He slowed his hand and teased his fingers over his cock and balls, loving the way Draco’s lashes twitched and he gasped and groaned over every move he made.

Draco’s hand left where it was clutching to the headboard and his fingertips ghosted over Harry’s thigh. Harry gasped as a pulse of come escaped his cock, landing on Draco’s cheek. Draco moaned and swiped it with and finger and sucked it into his mouth. 

It undid Harry, and he came, barely tugging again as he shouted and splattered onto Draco’s lips and chin. Draco took his fingers and shoved the come in his mouth, lapping it up and taking his come-slicked hand stroking himself quickly several times before his orgasm hit, and Harry watched in awe as Draco spilled over his hand, their come mingling and slicking his fist.

Jacques grunted and slammed once more into Draco, having come from watching the spectacle. He cursed in rapid French, and Draco laughed and smiled with bright eyes up at Harry. 

Harry smiled back and pushed a lock of hair away from Draco’s forehead without thinking. It was an odd moment to feel intimate- another bloke had his cock shoved up Draco’s arse, and Harry still was shuddering with aftershocks, but that’s what it was. The smile fell away from Draco’s lips and he just stared back up, his face suddenly innocent and open, eyes widening slightly, blinking.

Harry backed up and the moment was lost.

Jacques pulled out, and fumbled for his own wand, muttering the cleaning charms. Harry thanked him politely and went to the pile of clothing he left by the door. He had the sudden need to run away.

“Harry?” Draco sounded a bit lost.

“I guess I’ll be, erm, going, Draco I’ll see you, er, at the thing. Later.”

Harry had his clothes on in seconds and darted for the door, quickly out into the corridor, and headed for the lift. He couldn’t go to his room and be so close to Draco right now, he needed air. 

The lift opened to the lobby, and Harry moved to the doors and exited into the cool night air of Paris. He finally checked to see if Draco had followed, but no one came after him. He walked off down the street, the sounds of the cars and people in pubs lining the road drowning out Harry’s confusion.

He walked on.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go, thanks for making it to the end. Eli, you are my best homie, I'll write porn for you any day. Crystie, I'm working on yours, you deserve a masterpiece of smut.

“Harry! Harry Potter!”

Harry flinched as a hand slapped him a little too firmly on the back. It was the Americans, out for a drink or two, as it seemed. 

Harry had posted up at the bar in a pub near the hotel so he could get shit-faced and stumble back to his room.

“Hello Bradley,” Harry said politely. He had no feelings on the Bradley situation at the moment, being six drinks in and feeling more than numb.

“This is Charles, Max, Dan, and Steve,” he said, pointing to each of his companions. Harry nodded and waved, stomach sinking when the lot of them sat at the bar alongside him.

“We heard you had disappeared from the hotel,” Charles said quietly to Harry while the others tried and failed to order drinks, not realizing that being louder didn’t help. 

Harry shrugged and took another sip of bourbon. “I was feeling a bit suffocated,” he slurred slightly. “Thought I’d get air.”

 

“They were worried, since the curse and everything,” Charles raised his brows. Bradley, somehow having managed to get a proper drink joined them, looking awkward.

“Yeah, the Aurors were pretty pissed that you just left,” he said, eyes never meeting Harry’s. 

Harry shrugged again. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, leave the guy alone, he’s Harry Potter, for fuck’s sake,” Steve piped up.

Charles shook his head fondly. “I’ll go and let the front desk know you’re alright, don’t want an international incident over you wanting a drink.” He departed swiftly.

“So…” 

Somehow Harry had been left with Bradley, of all people. Harry took another drink.

“Do you have any idea who would curse you?”

Harry eyed him suspiciously. “No, but I know what they wanted, but it’s too bad because I have no idea what the answer is. Pointless, really.”

Bradley sighed and took a sip. “Yeah Charles thinks he has a lead- he saw you talk to three people when you left the ballroom the other day.”

“Why does he care?”

Bradley huffed a laugh. “Americans. We think we have to solve the world’s problems.”

Harry snorted with laughter for a moment. Bradley was an alright bloke, he guessed.

Charles came back in, smiling. “Told the front desk where ya’d gone off to,” he said, a southern accent slipping in slightly. “They haven’t figured out much about your case.”

Harry nodded and signaled the bartender for another. 

“Really, I’m fine,” he said, “just needed a break.”

Bradley and Charles started chatting about the law enforcement differences between Europe in general and America, and Harry tuned them out.

He wondered if Draco had turned in for the night or if he’d wandered down to the pub in the lobby. If he’d tried to pull again or if he’d gone to sleep. Maybe he could go back up to his room now and avoid him and pass out.

He stood, swaying a little, and bid the Americans good night. They all stood and insisted they escort him back to the lobby at the very least, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. They were all pretty nice blokes, so Harry agreed and they staggered off together as a group to the hotel. They parted ways on the lift- the Americans were on the third floor.

Harry rode the rest of the way by himself, not quite as drunk as he wanted to be, but enough so he could pass out when he hit the bed.

The doors opened and he almost ran into a man in grey robes. Harry frowned and mumbled an apology. The guy looked familiar, but he didn’t care, he just needed to lie down.

His room was bright when he entered, and Draco’s wall was blessedly silent. Harry tossed his glasses in the direction of the side table and stripped quickly and crawled under his covers. He muttered _nox_ and the lights went out. He burrowed down as deep as he could get and wondered if housekeeping had been there and if they would leave another hangover potion for the morning. 

It was strange that they had left the lights on.

********

Harry was roughly pulled out of bed and stood up. He fought at first, then relaxed thinking Draco must have come in again.

The man holding him didn’t smell like Draco.

Harry twisted and got out of the man’s grasp in the dark and went for his jeans lying on the floor, hoping to get his wand.

“ _Petrificus Totalus_ ” growled a voice as Harry went stiff and fell to the carpet. 

He was face down, unable to see his attacker, and unable to move. He laid there helpless in his boxers until rough hands flipped him over. It was still dark, so all Harry could make out with his glasses missing was a shape dragging him to the coffee table, muttering to himself in French.

_Not the Americans,_ Harry thought. 

He struggled with no success as his assailant gripped his arm and reached for a large wooden spoon that hadn’t been there before.

The world twisted and the portkey whisked them away.

He was dropped with a thunk onto a hard concrete floor, face down again, and listened as a few voices spoke rapidly in French. 

Harry felt his body being manipulated with magic into a kneeling pose, hands bound tightly behind his back.

The room was small, like a cellar, and a bare muggle lightbulb hung in the middle of the room. They weren’t in the hotel, that was sure. Harry listened intently for the sounds of traffic, and there was none, so he was no longer in the city. He couldn’t see much more to look for further clues, so he tried to stay calm and wait for any more clues. It was a bit chilly in just his pants.

Two men continued arguing, and one of the men finally approached. 

“You, Potter, you drink this.” Harry could see a short, squatty man with a beard lean in front of him with a small vial in his hand. Harry tried to move his head to the side and resist, but the liquid was forced into his mouth and down his throat. It was vile and warm, but somehow he kept it down, wondering if this was the end.

He began to immediately feel the effects of the earlier drinking slip away, and he internally rolled his eyes when he realized they gave him the same hotel hangover potion he had already used.

His head cleared and he blinked to try and focus his eyes. No luck without his glasses. 

One of the wizards mumbled and flicked his wand, and Harry’s body broke from the spell, leaving him still bound but able to move his head. 

“Who are you and what do you want?” He demanded of his captors.

“We only need to know a few things and we can let you go,” an accented voice responded. Not French, but familiar.

Harry wracked his brains trying to identify him. He’d met so many new people in the last week he couldn’t quite pin it down.

The other wizard stood to the side, not saying much anymore. Harry could make out gray robes- and kicked himself. He didn’t get a good look at the wizard from the lift, but he knew it was him. He’d broken into Harry’s room, left the portkey, and walked out leaving the lights on. Harry had been too drunk to notice the wooden spoon being out of place, and the portkey had needed to be charmed in the location it would be used for it to work properly. 

The first wizard moved a chair to sit in front of Harry.

“I tried the unconscious truth curse last time, but I can see now that I need to work harder to extract the information. Now,” he asked as he leaned closer. “Where have you hidden the resurrection stone?”

He was close enough where Harry could see him clearly. Romanian, for sure, from the day before. He’d shaken Harry’s hand as he was leaving the dining room for the kitchens. He must have cast the curse then. 

Harry smiled wryly. “What’s a resurrection stone?”

The backhand was swift and hard, causing Harry’s ear to ring.

“You tell me this, I let you go, and no one has to know. I will obliviate you so no one can blame you, yes?” The man had his wand in Harry’s face, poised to fire.

“And what if I refuse?” Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to identify the second man. He seemed nervous, and stayed a distance away, in shadow.

“Then I extract it the way I tried before, with the curse. This time there will be no Malfoy brat to come rescue you.”

Malfoy _brat_? The pieces tumbled into place, and Harry began to understand what was happening. This was someone who knew Draco when he was young. Someone who supported Voldemort, obviously, someone who had access to the equipment to make portkeys.

“Francois?” He directed at the second man. He flinched at the sound of his name.

“Pay him no attention, Potter, you deal with me.” The older man was close enough where Harry could smell his foul breath. “The stone, or I curse you, and you tell me anyway. Then you die.”

“No, papa!” Francois moved forward, Harry able to make out his features as he stepped in the pool of light made by the bare bulb. He looked distraught. “You promised!”

The older man snorted. “You always were too soft, _mon fils_ ,” he growled. “Now Potter. The stone.”

“What stone?” Harry was stalling the best he could, praying that he could kill time until the Aurors discovered he was missing. 

It occured to Harry that no one would disturb him if they thought he was sleeping off a night of drinking with the Americans. Shit. And Draco would be furious with him for leaving abruptly, or would be avoiding him altogether.

Francois’ father stood and paced the room, stopping in front of his son and pointing in his face, speaking angrily in what sounded like a mixture of Romanian and French. Francois bowed his head and murmured an apology, leaving the room.

Harry tried not to panic. 

A calmness started to settle over Harry- not unlike the one he experienced before. It was slow at first, but as the older man paced, Harry began to feel slightly euphoric. He really wished Draco was there. He’d know what to do.

Harry bit his lip over the impulse to ask the man for a snack. He was really quite hungry. 

The man stopped pacing and came back to stand over Harry. 

“That’s enough, now tell me about the stone. The resurrection stone.”

Harry smiled and fought the urge to tell him Narcissa had it.

“Did you know I can speak to snakes?” Harry asked, hoping to keep his mouth busy with other topics. “And I can understand them too.”

The man jerked slightly and frowned.

“Oh, yes,” Harry grinned. “I once set a python loose on my cousin Dudley at the London zoo- that’s a place where muggles cage up animals. There was a large snake and I set him free. I bet I could summon them up if I tried. Want to see?”

“No, tell me about the stone.”

Harry grit his teeth against the urge. “Voldemort gave me that power, did you know? When I was a baby. He gave me a lot of interesting things.”

“How dare you speak the Dark Lord’s name!” the man roared. “You are nothing, you are slime!”

“Yes, but I am slime who can speak to snakes. But actually, I sort of lost that power a little when I killed Voldemort.” Harry groaned internally. The curse was starting to work. “Well, actually, he sort of killed himself when his spell rebounded- the Elder wand held no allegiance to him, after all-” Harry bit his lip realizing he was about to start talking about Draco. The words tumbled out anyway. He just really really wanted to talk about Draco. “Draco Malfoy has a lovely cock,” he blurted out. 

“Aguh! I don’t care about the Malfoy boy’s cock- wait, are you saying the great Chosen One is a poof?” The man looked gleeful and disgusted at the same time.

“I dunno,” Harry said cheerfully. “I just know I love that big beautiful rosey cock-”

“Stop!” the man cried. “That’s not what I want to hear! Tell me about the stone!”

Harry grinned wolfishly. “Want to know what’s even more lovely than Draco’s cock? His tiny pink arsehole.” Harry licked his lips. “I love to watch him get fucked. It’s wonderful. All spread out on the bed, getting pounded by some bloke, putting on a show for me-”

“You are disgusting! Stop!” The wizard had his hands over his ears.

Harry’s head was feeling heavy and the room began to dim. He fought to keep his wits about him, but the curse would black him out soon. And Draco would be in danger.

“He’s beautiful, you know,” Harry sighed as he slumped over a little. “I’ve always thought so. So pretty. I want him. All to myself. Except when I want to watch.” He giggled when the wizard made a disgusted sound and pulled out his wand. Harry felt like his body was floating, light as air, and he felt so good. He really wanted to just let it take him. 

There was shouting on the other side of the door. Harry’s eyes lost focus and the blackness slipped over him just as the door burst inward, a flurry of curses flew over his head, and a flash of white-blond hair brushed his cheek as Draco caught him when his bonds suddenly dropped.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: fluff and awkwardness

Harry blinked, realizing he was right where he’d been only moments earlier. Draco was holding him tightly with his left arm, still on the dirty floor, and chanting a counter-curse over Harry and moving his wand in patterns. Harry watched a thin blue line be pulled from his chest by Draco’s wand where it coiled tightly together at the tip. It was ugly and dark, and Harry watched, rather impressed, as Draco’s wand turned it pink and dissolved it completely.

“Draco, what happened?” Harry slurred.

Draco scowled. “I’m still angry with you, you tosser. You got yourself kidnapped.”

“Francois-”

Draco shook his head. “Francois sent an owl with your location. We arrived as quickly as possible. He quite assuredly saved your life.” His face was a stone mask, but Harry could see the panic underneath.

“Of course,” Harry said quietly. “He saved my life. His father?”

“Is imprisoned by the Aurors who only just arrived. It was Bradley and the Americans that assisted me. Not bad detectives, them.”

Harry grinned, so tired. “Is that what they do?”

“Some sort of Secret Service. They were concerned about you, and came to check on you. I didn’t...I mean, I should have-”

“Draco, it’s alright, I’m fine, and he didn’t get anything from me.” Harry paused. “Well, mostly nothing. I may have told him I liked your cock.”

Draco shushed him. “Are you serious?” he whispered. “You told him you liked my cock?”

Harry giggled. “I may have mentioned it. That and tried to impress him with my almost non-existent ability to talk to snakes. I was really trying to stall. But nothing about...anything else.” 

Draco breathed and nodded. “Let’s get you back to your room, alright? You need to sleep this off. Agent Williams?” Charles came over to where they sat. “Will you assist me in moving Auror Potter?”

Charles grinned down at them. “You two get your shit together yet?” Harry’s head whipped over to Draco.

Draco sniffed and helped Harry up. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re obviously drunk, Agent.”

Charles’ grin widened. “He was a wreck before we got here, Harry. Screaming at the French police guys, threatening to tear the hotel apart-”

“I think Auror Potter should be moved now,” Draco said loudly, his face pink. Harry smirked.

Charles laughed and helped them up. Draco pulled off his outer robe and placed it around Harry’s bare shoulders. He held up Harry’s missing glasses and slid them onto his face. Harry could see the room clearly, the American agents speaking with the French Aurors, and Francois giving his statement to Bradley just outside the door. Francois’ father was being levitated out of the room, and presumably to jail.

“What’s going to happen to Francois?” Harry asked.

“He has been working with us undercover for the last few months as a confidential informant,” Charles said. “He has further information on a small faction of Voldemort loyalists in Romania, France, and the US. We’ll see if we can get him into witness protection and relocation.” 

“Wow,” was all Harry could think to say. He was suddenly exhausted. 

Draco walked him out of the small house surrounded by countryside. His arm that wrapped snugly around Harry’s waist felt solid, real. Draco suddenly pulled Harry around and embraced him tightly, burying his face in Harry’s neck.

“You stupid git,” he whispered, his breath tickling Harry’s skin. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Harry huffed a tired laugh and wound his arms around Draco’s waist, relaxing into a hug that should have been awkward, but wasn't. 

“Sorry, Draco, didn’t mean to go and get kidnapped, next time I’ll consult you first.”

Draco shoved him back, crossing his arms. “That’s not what I meant,” he bit out, glaring at Harry, his eyes flashing in the dim light of dawn. 

Harry thought back to his abrupt exit from Draco’s room, and his face flared with shame. Draco was looking away, chewing on his lip.

Harry frowned. He cocked things up, that was sure, but he really had no idea how to do what they were doing.

“Can we just go back? I’m really tired.” Harry stepped closer to Draco again, going with his instincts and pulling one of Draco’s folded arms until he relaxed them and took one of his hands and threaded their fingers together.

Draco looked down at their entwined fingers, his eyes wide. He blinked and straightened back up, his chin set, the sweet blush across his cheeks the only thing belying his calm exterior. 

Harry grinned.

The world twisted away as they apparated back to the hotel. As soon as they landed in the lobby, Draco tried to drop his hand, but Harry squeezed tighter and gave him a defiant look.

“Here?” Draco asked, a twist of a smile sneaking onto his face. “In front of everyone?”

“So?” Harry shrugged and pulled Draco over to the lifts. He saw a few people looking, and he was sure they were a sight; Harry obviously wearing Draco’s taylor-fit robes (and nothing else) and dragging him across the room, but he truly didn’t give a fuck. 

They were silent on the lift, a slow apprehension working its way into Harry’s gut. Maybe Draco didn’t want more than just to be fucked by other blokes for Harry’s amusement. It was sort of fucked up to be holding his hand, really, but nothing made sense, and he was so very very tired.

The lift doors opened to a bustling corridor. Harry groaned as they approached the active crime scene. He’d forgotten that it might be a big deal to some- Harry Potter getting kidnapped, and all. Draco stiffened when Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic himself wove through the crowd and striding toward them.

“Auror Potter, Curse-breaker Malfoy,” he said curtly, nodding a greeting. 

“Sir,” Harry returned in greeting. Draco swallowed loudly next to him and nodded back. Harry could feel their palms start to sweat where they were connected. 

“The room has been cleared, and they are about to shut down for the morning, perhaps you should find another room for the time being.” 

If he saw their joined hands, he was purposefully ignoring it.

Harry nodded, glancing over at Draco. “Alright, sir. That shouldn’t be a problem. Will the Aurors need anything from me? My statement?”

“Not for now. You two should get some sleep. I’ll have some food sent up for you both. Any idea what they were looking for?”

Draco stiffened a fraction further, and Harry answered quickly.

“They wanted the resurrection stone, Minister,” he said firmly. “I told them I don’t know where it is, and honestly, I have no desire to.”

Kingsley gave him a shrewd look. “Because that is something that should be housed at the Ministry if it ever surfaced, Potter. You do let me know if anything changes, will you?”

Harry nodded and felt Draco relax a fraction beside him. 

Kingsley started to walk away and turned back. “Perhaps you should take some extra holiday, Potter, before you return to England. It’s quite an ordeal you went through. If it wasn’t for Curse-breaker Malfoy’s quick action, you might not have been able to make it back at all. Don’t worry about the conference, get some rest.”

Harry couldn’t help the grin that lit him up. Kingsley nodded at the two and strode away. 

“My hero,” Harry whispered to Draco.

“Shut it,” Draco said in warning, dragging Harry over to his door and unlocking it quickly.

The door shut on the noise in the corridor, but the bustling sounds through the wall were a reminder of what had happened only hours before. Harry’s stomach roiled.

Draco was watching him closely, his hand still gripping Harry’s tightly. He flicked his wand at the wall. “ _Silencio_ ,” he cast, the noise falling away immediately. 

Harry felt his knees start to go out. He was so very tired. “So you _do_ know a silencing charm,” he mumbled after a giant yawn. 

Draco finally dropped his hand, but was only grabbing the robes and pulling them off Harry and tossing them to the side. He manhandled Harry under the covers, not saying a word as he tucked him in and dimmed the sky overhead. Harry tried to ask him what he was doing, but sleep was coming, and he was powerless to stop it.

He drifted off.

He awoke a few hours later, with a need to pee. He stumbled out of Draco’s bed, looking to see if he was resting on the other pillow. He was disappointed to see it empty, but a light snoring caught his attention. There, slumped in Harry’s chair, Draco was curled up, fully dressed, wand out. He had been watching over Harry as he slept.

Something twisted hard in Harry’s chest at the sight. Draco’s lips almost pouted in his sleep, his brows furrowed in his dreams. Harry went to the toilet and returned quickly, going to Draco’s sleeping form, standing clear of his wand and gently pulled him up to move him to his bed. 

Draco started at first, but then let Harry take his wand and undress him. When he got to Draco’s pants, he stopped, fighting the urge to disrobe him completely, and slid into bed with him. Draco rolled over and away from Harry, and his heart sank a little, but then he felt Draco’s bum wiggle back against his hip. Harry chuckled and rolled to spoon him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him flush with his body. Draco mumbled in his sleep, and Harry felt his eyes droop again.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry woke again, this time to the undulation of Draco’s firm arse rubbing against his clothed cock. With each roll of Draco’s hips, his erection brushed Harry’s arm where it draped over his hip. Harry couldn’t help but roll his own hips forward, delighted when Draco moaned and pressed back further. Harry could feel the heat radiating off of Draco’s hard flesh, and he wanted very much to see what it felt like in his hand. He shifted his arm and ran his palm over Draco’s clothed cock, drinking in Draco’s gasp of surprise and moan as he ground back onto Harry. He decided to take it a step further and slipped his fingers under the waistband of Draco’s pants and ran his fingers over the hot, silky skin. It felt alive and real, and the pit of desire in Harry’s stomach bloomed and he had to hold back from just rutting on Draco’s backside like an animal until he came. Harry sighed into the back of Draco’s neck, his lips lightly touching the pale smooth skin there. Draco shuddered and turned in his arms, Harry missing the contact of his back immediately.

Blue grey eyes peered back at him in the dim light. Draco’s lips were parted and his breathing shallow. His face was flushed with arousal and his fingers shook as he ran them down Harry’s chest, his fingernail gently scraping harry’s left nipple.

Harry growled and grabbed Draco’s wrist, and in one swift move, was on top of him, pinning his wrists to the pillow above his head. Draco gasped as Harry held them with one hand and worked Draco’s pants off with the other. 

Harry let go of his wrists, and Draco kept them in place, watching in awe as Harry slid off his own boxers and threw the duvet back, moving between Draco’s thighs. His cock was flushed and hard, almost rising to Harry as he licked his lips. He hovered over Draco, not entirely sure what to do first.

Draco bit his lower lip, the nervousness so unlike his usual bravado that Harry felt a swell of confidence. He dipped in and kissed Draco, hard, on the mouth. Draco’s hands flew up to clutch at his shoulders and neck and hair, spreading his legs wider, wrapping them around Harry’s waist and pulling their bodies together.

Harry moaned into his mouth when their cocks came in contact, the heat and sweat between them making it slippery and ease the friction as they rutted together and kissed, the tension between them growing. The slide of hard flesh was perfect, and Harry felt like he could come just from that, but he wanted so much to be inside Draco, to feel him, tight and hot, to fill him up, to pound into him.

Draco rolled him until he was straddling Harry, still thrusting down, moaning and gasping into the kiss, his hands roaming and moving as if he didn’t know what to touch first. 

“Fuck, Harry,” he groaned as he sat up. Harry chuckled and put his hands behind his head, content to just watch Malfoy, pupils dilated, panting, sitting atop him, looking wrecked.

Draco’s fingers wrapped around his shaft and Harry arched into his touch. Draco’s other hand was behind himself, fingering himself, lip held in his teeth, looking for all the world like a man on a mission, a desperate need to impale himself on Harry’s cock.

Harry brought a hand down and his fingers joined Draco’s, moving them aside so he could press inside. The tip of his index finger slid inside with ease and Harry moaned. Draco fumbled around, looking for the lube, and Harry pushed a second finger in to join the first. Draco opened right up for him, moaning and writhing down on his hand as he messily slathered Harry’s cock with lube.

Draco slapped away Harry’s hand and rose up, holding Harry’s cock still and slowly lowering himself until the tight ring of muscle gave way, accepting Harry in a few inches. 

It was heavenly. Harry held back from thrusting upward, not knowing if Draco could handle his girth yet. 

Draco was moaning low and loud, that voice alighting Harry from the inside. Draco’s hot hole sheathed slowly onto Harry, the tightness incredible and perfect. Harry fought off the need to come, and waited for Draco’s skin to meet his. 

Draco panted, glaring down at him. “You planning on doing anything, or are you just going to lay there and make me do all the work?”

Something about the sneer and the tone of Draco’s voice broke something in Harry. He grabbed Draco’s hips and pulled him up and slammed him back down. Draco shouted and fell forward, propping himself up on his hands over Harry.

Harry did it again, drawing his knees up so he could get leverage when he planted his feet on the bed and began to thrust upward. 

Draco whimpered and shuddered, clenching around him. Harry thrust up over and over, the slapping sound of his skin hitting Draco’s filling the room, minging with the grunts of his effort and the cries falling from Draco’s bitten lips. 

He caught Draco’s mouth in a kiss again, sucking hungrily at his tongue. He growled and pulled Draco off of him, flipping him to his back and pushing his knees up and roughly pushing back in. 

Draco cried out his name over and over as he pounded into him, biting his neck, marking him with bites and sucking bruises. Harry could feel Draco tightening around him and his cock throb between them, precome pulsing out and making a slick mess between them. 

He wanted to see Draco come, so he knelt back to hold Draco’s legs up on his shoulders, holding them tightly to his chest so he could see the tortured anguish of pleasure contort Draco’s features as he thrust harder, changing the angle in a way that made Draco scream and clutch at the headboard, his hole clamping tightly around Harry’s cock as he neared his orgasm. Harry reached down and ran his hand over Draco’s neglected cock, the slick of the sweat over the hard flesh, the way it fit so perfectly in Harry’s hand from that angle, the way it swelled and spurted over his fist, the thought of how close to the way he stroked his own cock when he watched Draco get fucked by other men, brought him over the edge. The silky way Draco’s hole spasmed around him as he came in waves, filling Draco with his hot come, stilling his hips as the pulses went on forever, stroking more come from Draco’s cock, milking the last pulses out. He released Draco’s legs and they fell to the sides, limp, as Draco’s chest heaved breathless, his eyes closed, his body relaxed completely. 

Harry pulled slowly out, watching the way Draco’s stretched rim encased him, shrinking up and flexing at the loss, and pushed back in. His cock head was overly sensitive, but he continued to pull out, watching his come ooze out, and pushing it back in with his cock. He was fascinated with the way it all felt, even the way pushing the cooling come back in with his fingers felt. He liked the feel of Draco’s loosened rim catching on the roughness of his callused fingers, and the way his smooth cock head pushed back in so easy. He was amazingly still sort of hard, and delightfully listened to Draco whine and squirm, his spent cock twitching on his belly as he allowed Harry to continue his exploration of his hole. 

Harry was sure he was addicted. He didn’t know what it meant. But he was caught up in the moment, the sounds, the textures, the smells, tastes. He remembered he still had other things to taste, but that would have to wait.

When things began to get sticky, Harry looked around for Draco’s wand. With some effort he managed to accio it over and clean the two of them up. Draco was relaxed and stretched out before him, only a small crease between his eyes showing any emotion. Harry pulled on his wrists until Draco whined and scowled but sat up in his lap. He wasn’t quite looking Harry in the eyes.

Harry held Draco’s chin and gently pressed their lips together. He held them there, Draco not responding, and despite the panic he felt, he waited for Draco to decide.

It seemed like an eternity of Draco’s indecision, but he finally melted, moving his lips in a soft kiss, repeating it over and over, their mouths slotting together in an intimate soft version of their first kiss, no less heat as it grew deeper. Harry felt a deep relief that he wasn’t rejected. It was so profound a feeling he almost hesitated, but he pushed through deciding to inspect the thought at a later time. 

He could feel Draco slowing down, so he moved them to lie down again, pulling Draco to tuck him under his chin. Draco peppered his chest with kisses as he held him closely, feeling safe and content for the first time in forever.

********

“Harry,” Draco’s voice drifted through Harry’s dream as he rose to consciousness.

“Mmmgh,” he responded, squeezing his eyes tighter.

“Potter, wake up.” The sternness in Draco’s voice made Harry blink awake quickly.

The sky charm above them signaled it was night again. His stomach twisted in hunger and he allowed Draco to pull him up and sit back against the headboard.

“What time is it?” he mumbled as he accepted a glass of water that Draco put to his lips. It tasted cold and perfect, and he gulped it down, his belly lurching as it hit his empty stomach.

“Slow down, you nitwit, you’ll vomit.” Draco sounded vaguely annoyed, but what else was new.

Draco took the glass away and returned with Harry’s glasses, sliding them onto his face. Draco sounded grouchy considering he was taking care of Harry.

“What happened?”

Draco snorted. “I got tired of waiting for you to wake up, so… Anyhow, you need to eat.”

Harry nodded and accepted a plate loaded with sandwiches. He moaned when he took his first bite. He ate ravenously while Draco watched him in amusement.

“This cheese is fucking amazing,” Harry moaned around a bite.

“We’re in France, Potter,” Draco sighed, still sounding put out.

Harry swallowed his last bite and set the plate aside.

“What is it, Malfoy?” He said pointedly.

Draco sagged and looked away. He seemed to be struggling with something. Harry waited him out.

“What is...I mean. Erm, whatarewetoeachother.” It all came out in a rush. Harry smirked at him.

“You mean are we more than just what we were yesterday?” Harry guessed.

“Yes,” Draco pursed his lips, not giving away anything. “What is it you expect from me. I mean, I don’t think you really know what you’re getting into here- I’m not a pleasant person to be around for extended periods of time. I get restless. I’m not the relationship type, Potter.” 

Harry shrugged, kind of expecting this. “And I’d be lying if I said the idea of me watching you get buggered by another bloke didn’t really turn me on. Because I don’t want a relationship if it means I can’t do that again.”

Draco looked like he swallowed a lemon. “What?” He asked incredulously.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, call me a pervert, or whatever, but it really does it for me.”

“I can’t have an open relationship, Harry,” Draco said quietly. Harry’s heart sank.

“Oh.”

“I don’t think I could...share...you with anyone. I can’t stand the thought of you even _looking_ at someone else, let alone shagging them. I- I couldn’t do it.” His mouth was set in a firm line, his blond hair falling across one eye.

Harry reached over and tucked it behind his ear. “Maybe I don’t _want_ you to have to share me with anyone. Maybe I just want to watch you come from another man’s cock with my name on your lips.”

Draco had a full-body shudder. “Harry, you don’t really-”

“Mean it? Yeah, I do. But I want this too. You mouth, your hands, your arse, all to myself sometimes. Most times. I want see where this goes. You think I, of all people, don’t know how hard it is to live with you?” Harry felt his confidence growing. “I feel like ...me, the real me when I’m with you. Honestly, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but I mean it. I want you, Draco. Just like you are.”

Draco’s face was trying not to contort. Harry pulled at his arm until he allowed Harry to hold him.

“Draco, I just want to try, alright?”

Draco sighed against his chest and pulled back to look Harry in the eye.

“Well, I’ve always kind of wanted you, I suppose, but I’m possessive. I’m jealous. I’m selfish. When Jaques asked if I wanted to have a threesome, I went insane with jealousy and almost called it off. He said you and he didn’t have to touch, but I can’t share. I truly thought about murdering him when he looked at your cock.”

“Then I’ll wear the cloak,” Harry kissed Draco’s nose, chin, mouth. Draco tilted his head, making the kiss easier and pulling himself into Harry’s lap. 

“Alright,” Draco whispered against Harry’s neck.

“Alright? You want to try this out?” Harry was joyous.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I didn’t kick you out after sex, so we are practically married anyway,” he snorted.

Harry grinned and rolled Draco to his back and scooted down the bed. Draco’s cock wasn’t completely hard yet, but it stiffened further when he ghosted breath over it. Draco squirmed.

“You ever had a cock in your mouth, Potter?” Draco was probably trying to sound imperious but ended up all breathy.

Harry chuckled, letting his lower lip brush over the crown. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to shove Draco’s cock into his mouth. The urge was a bit overwhelming.

“No, actually, you’re my first cock all around.”

Draco shuddered and moaned, his cock turning pinker as it hardened, a bead of precome welling at the tip. Harry instinctively lapped it up. It tasted like come- it wasn’t as if he hadn’t snogged Ginny after a blowjob before- but it smelled like Draco, and he needed more.

It was probably the sloppiest blowjob in the history of blowjobs, but the force with which Draco came down his throat was any indicator, he did a fair job. Draco was incoherent for a while, then promised to hex Harry if he didn’t leave Draco’s cock alone for at least a half an hour to recuperate. 

They took a bath together, and Harry got to open Draco up with his tongue, wiggling it in as deep as possible and making Draco babble nonsense and come like that before sliding into him and fucking most of the water out of the tub. 

They ended up missing the last two days of the conference altogether. 

********EPILOGUE********

Harry was pressed up against the wall between a couple snogging and a bin full of empty beer bottles. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot, but it was the best vantage point to see Draco dancing with a sandy-haired wizard. They swayed together in the loud music, Draco keeping his eyes fixed on the spot where Harry was hiding under his cloak. He was smirking, letting the bloke touch all over him, grinding back on him. 

Harry was doing his best not to wank in public. But Merlin, it was tempting. 

Another 30 minutes later had the bloke bending Draco over the sink in the club bathroom, fucking into him deeply while Harry wanked himself raw under his cloak. Draco’s eyes somehow found his in the mirror, and he mouthed Harry’s name as he came all over the sink, the bloke buried inside him, grunting and sweating.

The bloke stilled and cried out, coming in Draco’s arse. Draco just kept smirking and watching Harry under his eyelashes. Harry cursed him silently and gripped the base of his cock, keeping himself from coming just yet. The fun part hadn’t happened yet.

The bloke pulled out and took his wand out to clean them like a gentleman, nodded at Draco and thanked him for the shag. The bloke looked around the bathroom.

“He still in here?” He asked Draco.

Draco was still leaning over the sink, on display for Harry, hole flexing and winking at him. 

“He’s still here, but the deal was you don’t get to see him,” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Bye,” He said pointedly. 

The bloke shook his head and slipped out the door. Harry locked the door and yanked off the cloak. His hair was a wreck, but he was so hard he thought he might come just from touching Draco’s arse.

“Why hello, Potter, fancy meeting you here,” Draco crooned. 

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry growled, delighting in the way Draco’s pupils expanded. 

He flicked his wand over Draco, vanishing all traces of the other wizard, inside and out, and kicked Draco’s legs further apart, making Draco moan wantonly. He pulled a small packet of lube from his pocket and covered his cock with it, pushing into Draco’s arse without another word. Draco gasped and pushed back, clenching down when Harry grabbed his hair and leaned over him and kissed and bit his neck. 

Harry felt for Draco’s cock and was pleased to discover it was already hardening again so soon. He stroked it with his lube covered hand in time with his thrusts, so very close.

“Hurry up,” Draco whispered. “This sink is digging into me.”

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm tightly under Draco and apparated.

Draco squeaked as they landed on his and Harry’s bed. Realizing what happened, he went boneless with a groan and flopped face-first into a pillow. Harry gripped his hips and slammed into him a few more times before gasping sharply and coming inside him.

Draco wiggled and sighed as Harry did his usual routine of trying his damndest to scoop and stuff all his come back into Draco’s hole. He didn’t know why he loved to do it, he just did. 

When things started to dry, he gave up and flicked his wand and cleaned them up. 

Draco was pulling at his shirt and trying to get under the covers at the same time. Harry grinned. He was so cute when he thought he was done.

Harry grabbed Draco’s ankle and got a stern look.

“Potter, if you think for a second-”

“That what?” Harry asked innocently. “That I’ll let you go to sleep without sucking you dry? Turn over.”

Draco tried to cover his smirk with a scowl. He turned over obediently. 

Harry took Draco’s now mostly soft cock into his mouth, sucking until it was hard and leaking. He loved feeling it grow hard by his tongue. 

Draco was swearing and moaning, legs spread wide as Harry worked two fingers inside him to massage his prostate. Harry found his mark and rubbed it mercilessly. 

Draco nearly sat up straight with the force of his orgasm as it filled Harry’s mouth. Draco cried out Harry’s name as if in prayer, mumbling all the ways he hated Harry for making him fall in love with him.

“I love you too, you ponce, happy anniversary.” Harry grinned down at his tousled husband. 

They were getting to be too busy with their lives those days to be able to go have a fantasy night but once or twice a year, usually their anniversary or Draco having a really stressful week, so Harry did his best to make it special for him. 

Draco often cursed Harry for making him only want his cock. Harry felt like it was a win. But to be trusting enough with one another to go out and relive the way they got together, with a willing participant of course, was special to Harry, and it was a treat neither wanted to give up. 

The relationship wasn’t perfect; it was at least a year before Draco got over his extreme fear of emotional abandonment- it had manifested as jealousy and trying to break up with Harry on more than one occasion. But after he agreed to see a mind healer, Draco began to really understand the depth of Harry’s love for him, and they rarely fought. 

Harry himself was so obsessed with Draco, every inch of skin, every scar, every eyelash, every mood shift and outburst, and trusted him more than he ever thought possible. He loved him just as he was, completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Hoped you liked the smut, the kink, the plot holes :) see ya next time! Subscribe and I'll keep you in the Drarry lyfe as much as possible <3


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